Harry Potter and the Herald of New Beginnings
by curiousercreature
Summary: When young Harry Potter is locked in his cupboard on the night before his tenth birthday, battered from his cousin's favorite game of Harry Hunting, he finds himself breaking down for the first time in years. Nothing ever changes for little Harry, no matter how many birthdays pass. Little does he know that a surprising visitor would show up that night in a flash of fire and song...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters and plot elements are the sole property of J.K. Rowling and other affiliated copyright holders. Otherwise, they are spawned from some strange place in my head. I seek no profits from this story, simply to share what I've come up with.

Summary: When young Harry Potter is locked in his cupboard on the night before his tenth birthday, broken and bruised from his cousin's favorite game of Harry Hunting, he finds himself breaking down for the first time in years. Nothing ever changes for little Harry, no matter how many birthdays pass. Little does he know that a surprising visitor would show up that night in a flash of fire and song...

A/N: This story begins a year before Harry's first year at Hogwarts, and it is my goal to keep it running for a good long while. This is my first crack at writing fanfiction of any kind; any reviews or constructive criticism would be much appreciated. I'm an avid HP fic reader and I hope I can do this idea justice. It is also my hope that I can crank out a unique plot to entertain you all! Plans for this to be HHr in the future, may be some Weasely and Dumbledore bashing. Everyone should be as close to in-character as I can pull off, though. Completely un-beta'd, and if you want to apply I'd be glad to look at anything you've done before; I'm fairly confident in my ability to use the English language, but it's entirely possible there will be inconsistencies, especially with British culture as I am definitely not from the Isles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ HoNB ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Chapter 1**

The house at Number Four, Privet Drive of Little Whinging, Surrey was a perfectly normal home. The garden was kept perfectly; there was not a stray weed or overly-vibrant flower was to be found. The house was perfectly clean; the car, waxed and dust-free; the lawn manicured down to a blade of grass. Not a thing was out of place that night, as the residents of this oh-so-perfectly normal little home were snoring away in their beds. Well, that is, all except for one.

While the Dursleys - the owners of this fine suburban abode - were upstairs, safe and warm in their beds, a young boy with untameable black hair sat curled up on his cot, tucked away in the cupboard under the stairs. He dared not move, as every wince he gave made him want to moan out in pain – and he certainly couldn't afford to disturb his relatives' slumber, lest they do something worse to him.

Earlier that very same day, little Harry Potter had been on the run from his cousin, Dudley, and his gang of thugs as they engaged in their very favorite game that they liked to call Harry Hunting. It was a very apt name, certainly, as the young Mr. Potter fled like a panicked rabbit hounded by savage dogs who were right on his tail. Unfortunately, on this day like on so many others, Harry had lost their game and found himself cornered by the group of boys down an alleyway. They took turns beating the already-fragile young boy, pushing and pulling and holding him down as they kicked away at anywhere he was vulnerable. Despite his efforts, Harry walked – well, limped, really – away from the scrap with a fractured wrist, possibly a broken rib or two (for it certainly felt that way), a black eye, and numerous bruises beginning to blossom all over his body. When he finally made it home, his uncle, Vernon Dursley, the great whale of a man, had violently thrown him into his cupboard for being late home for the evening and failing to be there to prepare the family their supper. And there Harry sat, hungry and tired and sore all over, with tears in his eyes that never fell – that hadn't fallen in years, since he had learned that there was no point to crying when it only makes things worse.

So here was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the great savior of the wizarding world - unbeknownst to him, of course - curled up alone on his mangy cot in his spider-riddled cupboard, wondering how it was that Dudley and his friends always seemed to find a new place to make him hurt worse than ever before. The clock in the hall chimed midnight, and he softly whispered to himself, "Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday d-dear Harry," here he took in a shuddering breath, "H-happy birthday… to me…"

The tears that had filled his eyes began to fall for the first time in years, as he held himself, unmoving, finding that turning ten years old had changed nothing, just like every other time his birthday came around. He wiped his eyes furiously, immediately wishing he hadn't as a sharp pain flashed in his side and he bit back a yelp, angry at himself for being so weak as to finally give in to crying after all this time.

At that very moment, however, he began to hear a gentle crooning song seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. The song began to swell, and the tears in his eyes flowed yet again, though this time not from pain or sadness but rather because of the swooping feeling that started in his chest and seemed to flow through him, relaxing his aching body in a way he hadn't felt before in his entire life. Suddenly, a flash of fire joined him in his dark, dank cupboard, and this time he did yelp aloud, covering his mouth with his hands immediately after as he prayed that his relatives would not have woken. As he sat with his mouth covered, he watched in wonder as a beautiful bird, about the size of a swan, with plumage of mixed scarlet and glowing gold perched upon the opposite edge of his cot. The bird opened its beak, and again came the gentle song that soothed him inside and out. He relaxed yet again, still wary of the strange creature and yet feeling that something that sang so beautifully could not be so bad.

If he thought he had had a shock when the bird appeared in a flash of flames, he certainly was unprepared for the soft, male voice he began to hear inside his head. _"Fear not, young one,"_ the voice said, _"I wish you no harm."_ The proud animal before him bowed its head slightly, and he realized at once what was going on.

"I'm crazy. I've gone completely around the bend, that's it. There can't be a bloody great fowl sitting here, talking to me. Piers must have caught me worse than I thought, if I'm seeing things like this."

A tinkling laugh sounded in his mind, and the bird's black eyes sparkled with amusement as the voice came again, saying _"I assure you, you have not lost your mind. There are many things of which you are unaware, child, and I am but one of them."_ Its eyes took on a slightly sharper appearance, though there was still a measure of mirth lying within. _"And I would like it very much if you would refrain from calling me a 'bloody great fowl' again."_

"Oh." said Harry, "I'm sorry then. I didn't mean to offend you." He was still fairly certain that he was hallucinating, for certainly things like this could not happen in the real world, but he figured he may as well play along. He had certainly never heard of anything like a bird that could appear like that, and especially not one that would suddenly show up in a cupboard under the stairs and start _talking_, even to a freak like him. _"I mean,"_ he thought, _"that sort of thing only happens in fairy tales. And this is even stranger than that! If this were real, it'd take something like…"_

_"Magic?" _came the voice yet again, as the bird looked at him with that same amused twinkling in its eyes. _"As I said, young one, there are _many_ things that you as yet do not know."_

Harry nodded dumbly, still thoroughly unconvinced. The bird before him began to approach and he started to shrink back before realizing that, seeing as how this must be all in his head, it certainly could not hurt him. That soft, musical laughter came again, and the bird said to him, _"If you still do not believe, let me give you some proof. As you say, if I'm not real then I certainly cannot harm you; and, if I am, I promise you that I will help."_ Harry considered this for a moment and, sensing the sincerity in the bird's promise, he nodded and sat still as the bird came closer yet again. It began singing that gentle song again, relaxing his sore muscles, and he took a short breath as it leaned its head against his chest and began to cry. As the tears hit his skin, he felt a tingling as his pain wash away and he watched his bruises shrink before his very eyes. He felt motion in his side and realized his ribs were tingling as well. _Must have been right about those broken ribs_, he thought. He gave a hesitant touch to his abdomen and, feeling no pain, began to prod gently at the places he had been so badly injured only seconds before. Shockingly, he found that he truly felt no pain; that, it seemed, he had truly been healed. The scarlet bird laid its head yet again upon him, this time over a cut he had received when he was chucked into his cupboard, and let more tears fall. He felt that same tingling, almost a burning sensation, course slowly through his veins as the wound healed, and suddenly he felt even more relaxed as the rest of his bruises faded and his broken wrist seemed to mend before his very eyes. He gave it a gentle flex, and took in a deep breath as he tested his body. When he realized that he really was healed of all of his injuries, he looked back up at the bird with a strange mix of awe, confusion, and a hint of fear in his eyes.

"This is crazy. I can't believe it but you can't be in my head, hallucinations can't heal cuts and mend bones! What… What are you?" he said, realizing only too late that he was again raising his voice. He again clapped his hands over his mouth, listening intently for the telltale stomping of his uncle's feet on the stairs. Luckily, it never came.

_"I feel your fear, youngling. You need not speak. As I speak to you in your mind, you need only think what you wish to say and I will hear it just as well. Yes, as I have told you, and as I have shown you, I am real. The name we call ourselves cannot be said in your tongue, so you may simply call me 'phoenix' as others of your kind have for centuries upon centuries."_

"A phoenix?" Harry asked in disbelief. "Er," he muttered, _"A phoenix?!"_

Again that mirthful laughter. _"Yes. A phoenix. I did figure that should be obvious from the fire, you know."_

_"Well yeah," _Harry thought, _"now that you mention it I suppose it makes some sense. Cut me some slack, okay? I'm tired and this is a lot to take in."_

_"Yes, I suppose you have had a long day, haven't you?" _The scarlet firebird gave him a look that seemed to convey a deep sympathy as it settled next to him. _"In fact, you should get some rest now, my child. I would stay with you, if you will allow me."_

Harry thought for only a moment before coming to his decision. _"Yes," _he thought, _"I would like that."_ He figured that the creature before him had done him no harm so far; in fact, it had done him more good than anyone had before. _"What should I call you, though? Do you have a name?"_

_"I have no title of my own. Some of your kind have given me names in the past; Arick, Praetor, Kenna… Many, many names in my years in this world. You may choose one of your own, if you wish."_

Harry sat in thought for a time, considering the majestic animal before him. Finally, he looked up and into the eyes of the phoenix. _"Asa. My name for you is Asa."_

The regal bird before him nodded its assent. _"So shall it be. Such a name from one so young… I was worried you might decide to call me 'Polly.'" _he said in a way that indicated he'd be smirking, if birds could do such a thing. Harry made a face that showed his feelings on that matter, and the phoenix laughed yet again. _"Good night, young Harry. Rest well, child." _Before Harry could answer, he spoke once more, saying those words that Harry had never before heard; _"And happy birthday."_

_"Goodnight, Asa. And… Thank you." _he thought with the faintest of smiles, finally drifting off into a deep slumber. The phoenix at his side nestled closer still as they settled in for the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ HoNB ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next thing Harry knew, he was being woken by the sound of Dudley's massive weight descending the staircase above. He blinked his eyes blearily before the events of the night before came back to him. _"What a dream," _he thought to himself, before shifting and realizing that his pain really had gone. Looking himself over, he stared in shock as he saw his skin unmarred, and his wrist perfectly set, as if it had never been broken in the first place. Turning around slowly, he saw the feathered form lying next to where he had been but moments before. He reached out hesitantly, touching the great bird only gently before it raised its head to meet his eyes. With a start, Harry realized that any moment one of his relatives would be ripping open his door to drag him out to fix their breakfast.

"Yo-" he began to say but, remembering the night before in more detail, he held his tongue. _"You need to hide! It's not safe here, and my relatives will come any minute!"_ The phoenix – no, Asa – stared into his eyes for only a few moments before nodding his head and disappearing in yet another burst of flames.

"BOY!" came the expected voice of his aunt Petunia, "GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW AND FIX MY DUDDYKINS HIS BREAKFAST!" The door was opened violently, the sudden light hitting Harry straight in the eyes and causing him to wince. His aunt stopped for a moment, staring at his obviously healed body with a look of disgust tinged with – fear? Was she afraid of him for some reason? Nonetheless, she quickly came back to her senses and pulled him up from his cot, pushing him in the direction of the kitchen. "Don't you do anything to ruin this meal, boy! My little Dudders needs his breakfast to grow big and strong!"

_"Yeah, sure," _he thought to himself, _"the big part is right at least."_ He moved his way into the kitchen and began setting up what he needed to fix the family's daily eggs and bacon, of which he would of course have only the scraps left over. As he began to place a few small slivers of bacon onto a fourth plate, his aunt wrenched it away from him with a sneer on her face. "Oh no, boy. You'll have no breakfast today, after what you did last night. A freak like you hardly deserves it anyways."

Harry sighed inwardly, feeling his stomach tighten as his second meal, if it could even be called one, was taken away from him. Turning from his aunt, he allowed himself a small scowl since no one was paying attention to him at the time. He watched as Dudley shoveled fistfuls of food into his gaping maw, suddenly feeling glad that he wasn't eating lest he be sick. His uncle came waddling in, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and pulling him aside. "Listen here, boy. Since you decided to shirk your chores last night, today you'll be cleaning out the garage, clearing the gutters _by hand_, mowing the lawn, pruning and weeding the garden, and if you finish with all of that you'll repaint the garage door and go into your cupboard until we get home."

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." he muttered, feeling sick at the thought of having to do so much on an empty stomach. When his mind caught up, he couldn't help but ask, "When you get home? Are you going somewhere today?"

His uncle stared at him with a gruff frown on his face, his moustache twitching slightly, before saying, "Not that it's any of your business, boy, but yes. We're taking Dudley out to the amusement park for the day, and we won't be back until late. If you dare do anything freakish to this house, if we hear a single word that you've stepped out of line, it'll be no meals for a week, do you hear me? Now get to work!" With that, he shoved his way past Harry and made his way over to the table to wolf down his breakfast in nearly as disgusting a manner as his son.

Harry made his way outside, intent on getting the worst out of the way first as he went to the shed to grab a ladder and bucket. Hefting the heavy thing back out of the shed, he dragged it over and set it up against the side of the house. He began climbing up so as to get to work on the gutters, cringing to himself as he reached the top and looked at the muck inside. He rolled up his sleeves and, screwing up his face at the thought, began to dig the awful-smelling goop out and into the bucket he had with him. After a few minutes of this, he heard the garage open and the car start. As they were leaving the drive, his uncle leaned out the window and shouted up to him, "Remember boy, no freakish funny business! And those had best be sparkling by the time you're through!"

Harry sighed, nodding at his uncle as the car pulled out and they drove away. Turning back, Harry nearly jumped as the familiar flare sprang into existence right in front of him. He teetered on the ladder, nearly falling backwards before the phoenix reached out with a talon and pulled him back to safety.

_"I am sorry young one, I did not mean to startle you so badly."_ Looking along the edge of the roof, Asa gave a small, sad sound as he saw what Harry had to get accomplished. Turning back, he said, _"Your relatives are some of the worst I have ever encountered. I am truly sorry for them, child. No man should be kept the way you have been, and certainly not one so young! If I may be of assistance, please let me know. I will be listening, and will keep you company if nothing else."_

Harry glanced quickly around, sighing in relief as he saw that no one else was wandering the neighborhood at that moment. He turned to the creature and spoke, "You really must be careful. If anyone were to see you, I don't know what would happen! Since they've gone for the day you may stay inside, and I will let you know if I could use any help." The phoenix nodded and flashed away yet again, though shortly after Harry heard his voice once more in his mind.

_"We may speak this way if you wish at any time, young one. I am sure you must have questions, and I will give you answers if you seek them." _he said as Harry began to get back to his chores. Harry, still scooping out masses of garbage from the gutters, thought to himself for a little while as he considered the offer. He did certainly have questions, but he had no idea where to begin. To think; A phoenix, an honest-to-God phoenix, had suddenly appeared without any warning, healed his wounds, and curled up beside him for the night. He was certain that this had implications he could not even dream of, and he had to decide just what he wanted to know before he could ask. And so, as he worked, he carefully began asking Asa the questions that were on his mind.

_"There are so many things I could ask, Asa. First, though, if I'm going to call you by name, you may as well call me Harry. Now… Why did you come to me last night? I mean, I'm glad you did, but to think that a _phoenix_ would suddenly appear just to spend the night with a freak like me is hardly believable. Do you want something from me?"_

That same sad noise echoed in Harry's mind, before Asa answered, _"My chi-… Harry, you are no 'freak.' And you are far more important than you know. I am here to guide you, Harry, and to help you where I can. I ask nothing of you but to be your companion, for there are things that will come to pass that even I cannot imagine."_

_"But the Dursleys, they've always said…"_

_"No." _Asa cut in sharply,_ "You must know by now that they cannot be trusted; that they are liars of the worst sort. There is nothing wrong with you, Harry. You are a very special young man. Your relatives, however, they are truly the 'freaks' here. To treat a child this way is an abomination."_

Harry took a moment to think again, considering these words. As he thought, he found himself agreeing with what Asa had to say. Surely it was not normal – and he almost laughed at that thought – to treat someone the way he had been treated.

_"Alright." _he thought, _"I see your point. What do you mean, though, that you want to be my companion? What makes me so special? And…" _at this point, Harry recalled something that Asa had mentioned the previous night, _"Did you say something last night about _magic?_ Are you saying that magic is _real?_"_

That musical laugh sounded again, and the reply was tinged with the same amused tone. _"To answer your last question first: Yes, Harry, there is such thing as magic. I'm sure your relatives have done everything in their power to make you believe otherwise, but I am sure you have seen evidence of it yourself, if you think hard enough."_

Harry contemplated this response, thinking back to the strange things that tended to happen around him. There was the time that his aunt had sheared most of his hair off, only for it to grow back overnight. There was the time that his teacher's wig had turned shockingly blue right in front of his eyes. There was the time that he had been fleeing from his cousin's gang only to suddenly find himself on the roof of the school kitchens. Collecting all of those strange happenings, he began to understand that magic was really the only explanation. _"But then…"_ he thought, _"Does that mean… Do _I_ have magic?"_

The reply here was tinged with not a little bit of pride. _"Yes, Harry. You have magic. Your people would call you a 'wizard,' and no, this does not make you a 'freak.' This is but one of the reasons that I claimed that you were special. Now, back to your first question: I have chosen you, Harry, and I wish to stay by your side. Not as a pet, but as an ally and friend to you. Those of my kind very rarely choose to accompany one of you, though many of your kind have snared us by one means or another. I, myself, have unfortunately been held against my will several times in my life, used for my tears and plumes or kept as an exotic pet."_

Harry had frozen in shock. _"A wizard," _he thought, _"I'm a wizard. Magic is real and I'm a bloody wizard."_ His expression slowly darkened as another revelation came to him. _"And I bet they knew. They had to know! What else haven't they told me?!"_

The gutters on the house began to shudder under his hands as the pressure around him swelled. Just as it seemed that something would snap, Asa's soothing song entered his mind once more and quelled his anger to a manageable level. _"Yes, Harry. They did know. And there is much they have not told you. Your relatives live in fear of you; your aunt, consumed with jealousy. They truly hate that there is magic in this world, and wish to quash yours while you are still young. They cannot, of course, but it does not mean they will not try."_

_"Jealous? Aunt Petunia is jealous of me?"_

_"Well, yes and no. It is not only you, Harry, but it is her sister – your mother – that she is truly jealous of. And she has been for all her life, alas. She knows nothing else."_

_"My mother?" _Harry thought, a clenching feeling starting in his chest. _"She said… They told me my mother and father were drunks. That they died in a car crash. Are you saying my mom was magical?"_

_"Yes, Harry. Your father as well. They were no drunkards, they did not die in a car crash. I… Do not believe it is yet time for you to know the true story. Let me simply tell you that your parents died as heroes; and they died protecting you from harm."_

_"Th-they did? My mum and dad… They were heroes?" _he asked, tears forming in his eyes. He allowed them to fall, this time. He cried silently as he felt a deep longing for the parents he never knew; for the love that they had had for him; that they had died protecting him. He allowed himself to cry freely now, understanding finally, thanks to Asa, that tears can sometimes heal better than anything else.

_"Thank you, Asa. Thank you for telling me."_

_"You are welcome, Harry. It is the least that I can do."_ came the gentle response.

Harry calmed himself and, wiping his eyes against one of his rolled sleeves, realized he had finished working while distracted by the conversation. Looking around, he noticed that not much time had gone by, and sighed with some relief as he began to make his way back down to the ground. He emptied the bucket of grime into the bin and placed the ladder back in its spot in the shed before going to wash himself off a bit so he could get on with the rest of his work. Much as he wished that he could simply ignore his relatives' demands, he knew that it would be foolish to try. And so, walking in, he began to clean off his filth-riddled hands. Asa flew quietly into the room, landing beside Harry on the counter. Harry nodded to Asa, smiling slightly at his new… companion?

_"Asa, what did you mean when you said you wanted to be my companion? You didn't answer me before."_

_"Ah, yes. Simply, Harry, I would like to be by your side. As an ally and, if you will have me, as a friend to you. If you agree, your kind – wizarding kind – would refer to me as your 'familiar.'"_

_"Familiar? Like a black cat or something?" _Harry thought, remembering an image of a witch he had seen once on Halloween decorations. _"And… my friend? Really?"_ he asked timidly, uncertain that what Asa had said was true.

Asa laughed softly and replied in that smirking tone, _"Yes, something like that. We would share a bond, Harry, one that could not be broken. And yes, I would be your friend, Harry."_

Harry stared at the bird for a long beat, considering his answer. Truly, he found himself with no reason to disagree. _"Do I just have to say yes? Is there anything special I have to do?"_

Asa nodded slightly. _"If you are certain, Harry, then you must rest your right hand on my head and speak these words: 'I, Harry James Potter, do accept you as my familiar. So mote it be.' I will speak my part, then we shall be magically bonded. I warn you, there will be a mark signifying that we have made this bond, and it may… sting."_

Harry, hesitantly at first, began to reach out to Asa. He paused, firming his resolve, and confidently placed his hand upon the crown of Asa's head. "I, Harry James Potter, do accept you as my familiar. So mote it be."

_"I do accept Harry James Potter as my Master for such time as he shall have me. So mote it be."_

A flash of golden light came from where they touched, and a searing pain erupted on Harry's right wrist for only a moment before fading away. Harry hardly flinched; he had felt much worse before. As the light faded, Harry blinked his eyes and looked down at his hand. There, a band of scarlet was wrapped around his wrist that seemed to be made of interlocking symbols of some sort, with a flame resting in the center, under his palm. He stood there for a moment and realized that he suddenly felt… lighter, stronger, as though a fog had been lifted that he had not even known was there. He began to ask what had happened, but Asa answered his question before he had the chance to ask.

_"It is done, Harry. The mark on your wrist is a symbol of our bond; the characters you see are runes, signifying that I shall be your guardian, companion, and friend. Do not worry about hiding the mark, it will only be visible to you and me, and anyone that you specifically wish to see it. What you are feeling now is our magic melding; it will make you stronger, magically and physically, and I will know when you are in danger and will be able to come to your aid if necessary."_

Harry nodded, still entranced by the mark on his wrist and the power that he felt filling his body. Having a stray thought, he asked, _"Asa? How is it that you know so much about me? I mean, about my parents, and my relatives. How did you even know to find me?"_

_"I am a phoenix, Harry, and we have a special affinity to the mind and the heart. As well, I have lived for a very, very long time. One does not live this long and see so much without seeing patterns emerge in the tangled web of time – what some might call fate, or destiny. I see that you have a destiny to fulfill, Harry, and that you are pure of heart. I chose to join you for these reasons."_

_"How long is a long time, exactly?"_

_"Oh, Harry. I cannot count the years that I have lived. We phoenixes, while not eternal, have existed for eons. We are born, we grow, and we die; only to be born anew from our ashes. I have seen nations rise and crumble to nothing, Harry. I have seen men come to power and be torn down time and time again. That is how long I have lived, and I have longer still to go."_

Harry gazed in awe, coming to truly understand the honor that had been bestowed upon him. That a creature so ancient would choose _him_, to be tied to him this way, was overwhelming. He took a seat as he absorbed that information about his new – his first – friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ HoNB ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After several hours more work, and with some help from Asa in the form of heavy lifting and the occasional transportation by flame (which Harry found amazing – that his friend could move so much, and take things along with him when he flashed away), Harry had finally finished his chores with plenty of time left before his relatives would return.

He slumped into a chair in the kitchen, Asa beside him on the table, relaxing after his long day of work. Asa, at his request, had fetched him some food so that he could eat something without the Dursleys finding out. The two had chatted the whole day, with Harry asking a multitude of questions about every topic he could think of. He had found out about the kinds of magic that people like him – wizards! he still had trouble wrapping his head around that – could do; he had learned about how rare phoenixes were, and how much rarer it was for them to interact with a human; Asa had explained that he could disguise himself (in the form of an owl), so that he could stay by Harry's side in the wizarding world without drawing too much attention. As well, Asa had shown him that he could take Harry along with him when he popped away. At first, Harry had been hesitant to take his familiar's talon; after all, being engulfed in flames tends to be a less-than-pleasant experience. However, he trusted Asa to keep him safe, and eventually agreed to a short trip. Harry had asked that they visit the sea, since he had never before seen the ocean. The pair had arrived quietly upon a secluded stretch of sand, the vast water before them as the sun hung low in the sky. It was easily the highlight of Harry's life up to that moment.

Later in the afternoon, the pair heard the Dursleys' car pull into the drive. Asa flared out in plenty of time to avoid being seen by Harry's relatives. As they walked into the house, Vernon looked around to see that Harry had, in fact, completed all of the chores he had been given. Finding no fault, Vernon pulled a face somewhere between anger and disappointment that he could not find an excuse to punish Harry further. He gave a grunt and nodded at the raven-haired boy before telling him what he would be fixing the family for their dinner. Harry went to work, pulling out ingredients and supplies to fix the family their meal. Normally Harry would be exhausted after such a busy day, but this evening he was smiling inside at the fact that he had been in good company all day, finding that it had helped him immensely with getting things done. And it certainly didn't hurt that he was still feeling the effects of his new bond with his new friend and familiar.

After supper, where Harry had actually been given an almost-decently sized meal, he was allowed to go outside instead of being locked up as usual. It seemed that, between his accomplishments of the day and the fact that the Dursleys were all but exhausted from their outing, his relatives had decided to let him off easy for the night. Harry eagerly grabbed the opportunity to get out of the house, deciding to make his way to the library to read for a while. He selected books from the fantasy section, snickering a little at the irony; here he was, reading "fiction" and looking for information about the very real world he had been exposed to that day. As he read, Asa's voice occasionally cut in to explain what the stories had got right, what was completely ridiculous, and to give more detail on some of the more interesting characters who had actually existed in wizarding history. Harry was amazed to find out that Merlin had actually been a real person, and that Asa had once been in his company for a brief time as the great wizard had gone questing for a lost relic. As it turned out, the man had been a bit barmy, though very good-natured and quite powerful.

Harry eventually returned to Number Four before his relatives could get mad at him for being out late, and he went into his cupboard without complaint. He had never slept so well in his life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ HoNB ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: And there you have it! I'll be working on a Chapter 2 soon, and will have it posted as soon as it's done. Again, reviews and comments are appreciated. I'd prefer constructive criticism to flaming, but I'm quite good at ignoring people who have nothing to say worth hearing.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters and plot elements are the sole property of J.K. Rowling and other affiliated copyright holders. Otherwise, they are spawned from some strange place in my head. I seek no profits from this story, simply to share what I've come up with.

A/N: Well well well! I've gotten quite the response from my first chapter! A few reviews, tons of visitors and even a couple of favorites and follows! You all are too kind! Now, without further ado, let's see if I can keep the ball rolling, shall we?

**IN CASE ANYONE IS GETTING FRUSTRATED ABOUT CHAPTER 3, **because it's been a minute since I posted this, I'm having some computer troubles on top of a little writer's block (simply because I've never done this before). I haven't gotten anything from anyone to suggest that y'all are getting antsy, but I feel the need to say something because _I'm_ getting frustrated as it is.

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**Chapter 2**

The rest of summer passed quickly for Harry, and before he knew it he was back on his way to school to, yet again, be looked down upon by his teachers and classmates thanks to the slander that his relatives usually spread about him. This year, however, that the Dursleys weren't being quite as terrible as their usual selves. That's not to say they were being _kind_, or anything, but nonetheless it seemed that they had stepped back a little; their attitude was less outright anger than simply idle neglect. Thanks to this turn of events, Harry was actually able to keep his grades at a decent level for once. He still kept his head down at the beginning, holding himself back so as to make sure he wouldn't draw the ire of his aunt and uncle, but he was gradually letting his grades rise as the months went by.

As a result, Harry's life was getting a bit easier by the day. He still had to do the chores around the Dursley house, but no longer were they looking for excuses to punish him. He had a feeling that it had something to do with Asa, but he hadn't outright asked his familiar and the phoenix hadn't mentioned anything specifically. To Harry, it didn't matter what the cause was so long as it kept up.

Asa and Harry had spent the summer getting to know one another better, and Harry found himself very thankful for the decision he had made. Now that school was getting underway, Asa took to helping Harry with his studies; Harry was a smart boy, there was no doubt, but because he had been punished for getting better grades than his oaf of a cousin he had developed terrible habits over the years. Asa began teaching Harry to organize his thoughts, leading him through the steps patiently as he taught Harry to visualize his inner mind and sort out his memories into a form that he could easily grasp. Harry decided on a spider motif; he certainly had plenty of experience with them. His memories were organized as though flies caught in a vast, three-dimensional web, and he had worked diligently on being able to find each one with ease.

As a result, he found that it was actually becoming more and more difficult to hide his intelligence. It was hard for him to care, since the Dursleys were basically ignoring his existence. In fact he was very pleased about his progress in class, and it seemed that he was beginning to earn a grudging respect from his teachers now that he wasn't acting like a bad student anymore. He also found out from Asa that this technique was the beginning of what wizards called Occlumency, which prevented others from being able to read his mind. He contemplated the idea of adding defences to his mindscape, and decided that he would place venomous spiders and a few traps around his web just in case he encountered a Legilimens in the wizarding world. Asa seemed proud of Harry's accomplishments as he occasionally roamed through Harry's mind, with his permission of course.

The school year began to drag on a little, as Harry had begun to eagerly anticipate his eventual attendance at the magical school in Scotland that Asa told him was called Hogwarts. He kept up with his studies, since he knew that his non-magical education was still important to life in the real world, but as Christmas came and passed and the summer was rapidly approaching he was having to use his Occlumency to calm himself on a regular basis. His grades had improved over the course of the year to the point that he was nearing the top of his class, though the Dursleys hardly knew that since he hadn't shared that information with anyone and his relatives had taken to throwing his progress reports in the trash without a second glance long ago.

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Eventually the year let out and summer had finally arrived. June 23 came and with it Dudley's eleventh birthday, and it seemed that old Mrs. Figg couldn't take Harry in for once as she had somehow acquired a broken leg (probably by tripping over one of her multitude of cats, Harry thought). Because of this, he was (grudgingly) allowed to accompany his relatives on their trip to the zoo. Harry had never been somewhere with so many animals before, and he was fascinated by the many different creatures that were featured there. He did feel a bit bad for them, however, having to be locked up behind bars and glass and stared at all day by gawking humans. Dudley and his friend Piers were quickly becoming bored of the trip and Harry decided to hang back a bit so he wouldn't draw their attention.

After lunch the group went to the reptile house, and his cousin immediately went off to find the most dangerous creatures in the exhibit. He and Piers came up to the largest snake in the house, a huge Brazilian boa constrictor. Unfortunately for Dudley, the snake seemed to have gone to sleep. He tried to get his father to make the snake move, but after trying a few times to wake the creature by rapping his meaty knuckles against the glass they gave up and Dudley moved off to look for a more interesting animal.

Harry sat himself down in front of the constrictor's tank, looking at the great snake with sympathy. It slowly opened its eyes and raised its head to Harry's level, before giving him – a wink? Harry looked around quickly to make sure he wasn't being watched before turning back to the creature before him. He winked back. The snake turned towards Harry's cousin and uncle before giving him the snake equivalent of a roll of its eyes.

_§__**I'm sssorry about them, you know. I bet it'sss really annoying having to deal with that all day.**__§_

The snake looked at him curiously before it gave a nod and a hiss. Harry, however, heard very distinctly, _§__**Yessss, humanssss can be such a pain in the tail sssometimesssss.**__§_ Somehow, Harry was barely surprised, perhaps because he had been communicating with an animal for nearly an entire year. Still, he had a quizzical look on his face for a moment before Asa's voice rang in his head.

_"Ah, I see. How interesting… You are what wizards refer to as a Parselmouth. This means you can talk to snakes, Harry. It is a very distinct talent, and very rare. You may wish to keep this a secret… Many of your kind view this as a Dark trait."_ Harry communicated his understanding to his familiar; he had been made aware of the wizarding world's idea of Dark and Light magic, as well as their hang-ups on just about anything that was different from them, be it non-magical folk ("Muggles," they called them, though Harry thought this seemed like a derogatory term) or wizards with different backgrounds or unique abilities.

_§__**I have never met a sssspeaker before. It is niccce to have sssome intelligent converssation for once.**__§_

_§__**I have never sspoken to a sssnake before. I did not even know that I could before today. It isss nice to meet you.**__§_

Just then, Harry's bumbling cousin rushed over and shoved Harry violently out of the way. "OY, DAD, PIERS! COME LOOK, IT'S WOKE UP!"

Dudley pressed his face up against the glass and started tapping away at it to try and rile up the boa. It seemed to be working, in fact, as the snake fixed him with a nasty look and hissed what to Harry came across as a series of slurs and insults that nearly made him choke on his laughter. Just then, Harry felt a welling up inside of him and, right where Dudley had been tapping, the glass began to crack. The crack spread before suddenly the glass gave way, leaving Dudley to fall face first into the tank. He began screaming bloody murder as the giant snake slithered around him once before winding its way out of the exhibit. As it left, Harry distinctly heard a simple _§__**Thankssssss, amigo.**__§_ just before it was out of sight. Harry looked back at his cousin, who was still screeching like a banshee, and nearly broke down laughing yet again as he noticed the very obvious wet spot spreading across Dudley's pants.

The Dursleys were taken into the zoo director's office and, upon demanding an apology from the zoo for the supposed damages to their oh-so-precious little boy, they were informed that they were actually liable for the damages to the zoo's property and the loss of one of their prized exhibits, since the smaller tub of lard had obviously been the cause from security video showing him pressed up against the glass and banging away at it just before it broke, in direct violation of the zoo's "hands off" policy. Vernon was livid, his face turning that ugly shade of puce that it always did before he blew his top, but the explosion never came as security arrived to escort them from the premises and he wasn't quite stupid enough to go up against trained guards.

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As Harry and his relatives sped down the motorway, Vernon driving like a man on fire, he thought that his day could not have gone better. He was laughing internally, Asa joining him over their bond, at the events of the day. He had been to a zoo for the very first time, had a decent meal at the zoo restaurant, learned that he had a rare magical talent, and Dudley had pissed his pants on top of it all! Harry was absolutely certain that it had been he who had made the glass break, recalling the feeling that had risen in him just before the event; his uncle had given him a suspicious look, but seemed to have taken it as a given that he hadn't done anything since nothing was all that strange about a pane of glass breaking that way. Yes, Harry didn't think his day could get much better after all of that.

That is, until he saw flashing blue lights start up behind the car. Never had his Occlumency had such a test as the moment that he saw his uncle's face went pure white in the rear view mirror. He pulled over, directly followed by the traffic officer who ended up giving him a ticket for exceeding the speed limit that came with a £60 fine. His uncle was obviously barely containing himself in the face of this development and made absolutely certain that he maintained the speed limit for the final stretch back to Number Four. Harry was out of the car and into the house promptly upon getting home, still fighting to control his laughter at the comeuppance that day had delivered upon his awful relatives. He decided to go ahead and climb his way into his cupboard before Vernon could take out his frustrations on Harry's hide.

That night, Harry and Asa sat together on his cot and went back over the day's events, specifically the revelation of Harry's Parseltongue abilities. Asa explained that one of the founders of Hogwarts named Salazar Slytherin had been a Parselmouth, and that his legacy had been distorted by the ages into the prejudices of the wizarding world today. Harry was certain that there was something that Asa was holding back, but he had learned over the year not to press on some details; Asa seemed to have a very good sense of what was best for him, after all, and he trusted his familiar more than anyone else.

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As the days passed, Harry began eagerly awaiting the letter that he knew he would be receiving. His relatives seemed to be on their guard, obviously knowing what was coming although not when, but he was dead set on getting to it first. As the mail came each day he went to gather it up quickly, however his uncle tended to get there first, and even when he hadn't Harry hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary. One day, however, his uncle beat him to the mail and his face turned white as he saw the parchment envelope mixed in with the bills. He waddled off to grab Petunia for a private discussion.

Harry sighed to himself, but knew that the letters would not stop until he replied. He had several weeks before his eleventh birthday, and he was prepared to do anything to get his acceptance letter.

As Vernon and Petunia walked back into the living room, where Dudley sat watching television and Harry stood just outside of the door, they walked up to Harry with plastered-on smiles and his uncle began to speak.

"Boy- er, Harry, we have been thinking, and we would like to move you into Dudley's second bedroom. Your, uh, current living area is getting a bit small for you, after all… So, we'll just let you take your things upstairs then. Go on now."

Harry stared at his uncle suspiciously, wondering just why it was that he was being given this opportunity. However, he was willing to accept the new space either way. He gathered his few belongings from the cupboard and made his way upstairs, catching the beginning of one of his cousin's tantrums as it clicked that he would be losing the room where he kept all of his useless, broken toys. Harry smirked a bit at the whinging cries that his cousin had begun putting on, and the beginnings of the first telling-off he could remember Dudley ever receiving.

After Harry was moved in, which didn't take long at all, he settled on the bare bed and relished in the relatively comfortable mattress. His aunt eventually made her way up the stairs and to his new room, again with that same fake smile. "You'll be staying here from now on Harry. We hope you'll be comfortable here. These old toys may as well be yours, too, if you like."

Harry was certain that something was going on, and it all had to do with his Hogwarts letter. He'd have to be more vigilant for the next one so he could get his hands on it and pen a reply.

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The next day, Harry went to check the mail and, though he got there first, he found that there was no letter for him. He handed the mail over to his uncle and turned away, showing no sign that he had been expecting anything. He made his way up to his new room and, after closing his door, heard a tapping at the window. He turned to look and found a tawny owl sitting on the sill with a thick parchment envelope in its beak. A grin spread on his face as he opened the window and let the owl inside, taking the letter from it once it had settled on the dresser. Asa chose that moment to flare in and the owl gave a squawk and ruffled up its feathers at the surprise, but took no other action. Harry sat down on the bed to read his letter, first examining the address, written in brilliant emerald-green ink:

**Mr. H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey**

He chuckled to himself as he realized what had gotten his relatives in such a huff; the first envelope must have been addressed to the Cupboard under the Stairs! He was certain that they were in a panic over the thought that someone might know what they had done to him. He opened the letter by breaking the purple wax seal displaying the Hogwarts coat of arms. The letter read,

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

**Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE**

**(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)**

**Dear Mr. Potter,**

**We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.**

**Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Minerva McGonagall,**

**Deputy Headmistress**

That was the moment that it all became real for Harry. He looked up to Asa with tears in his eyes, a watery smile on his face. Oh, he had certainly understood that magic was real, and he knew that he had the ability, but now he knew he really was going to learn magic at a special school just for wizards and witches. He laid out a pen and paper that Asa had brought with him and wrote out his reply as calmly as he could (which is to say, he scrawled it out so quickly he had to start over three times). His letter simply thanked Deputy Headmistress McGonagall for her offer to attend such a prestigious school, excitedly accepted said offer, and asked that she please send someone to take him to explain a few things and to purchase his supplies as his relatives had never told him anything about their world. He tried to keep himself from rambling and gave no indication that he had any prior knowledge, finally rolling the letter up and carefully attaching it to the owl's leg the same way that his letter had arrived. The owl promptly flew off and Harry watched it until it was nothing but a speck in the distance. As he turned away, his face adopted an expression that spoke of resignation and barely contained anger. He felt his magic rising inside his chest, the same as it had the day at the zoo. He turned to his familiar and looked him in the eye, speaking aloud,

"I have to confront them, Asa. I might need your help. Keep an eye out, okay?"

Asa simply nodded, understanding what Harry had to do. He flared away as Harry walked out of his bedroom door and down the stairs. As he reached the bottom floor he took in a deep breath and made his way to the living room, where his relatives sat entranced by the glowing television screen in front of them. He cleared his throat loudly and spoke up in a voice that was filled with defiance and icy rage.

"I know." he said. "An owl delivered me a letter this morning. I know about Hogwarts; about how you've lied to me all my life. A professor will be by to take me shopping for my supplies. And you won't stop me."

His aunt and uncle froze for a time before turning to him, Petunia's face white with fear and Vernon's slowly becoming that beautiful purple shade that Harry always hoped my signal a heart attack on the horizon.

"You… You little bastard, how dare you speak to me that way! You listen to me boy, you little ungrateful freak, you've had it good 'til now! Oh you'll regret your behavior you insolent little shi-"

As Vernon lifted his massive body from the couch and moved to swing his meaty fist at Harry's face, he was halted in his tracks suddenly. He struggled to move but was stuck fast, not a muscle so much as twitching. That is, until he flew across the room and landed directly on the television set, crushing it to pieces as his aunt and cousin stared on in horror.

"No, Vernon. You'll regret what you've done. A professor _will_ be here for me to take me shopping for my school supplies. You will not lay a hand on me, you will _not_ get in my way. I am through with putting up with the way you've treated me. If you leave me alone I will leave you alone. If not… Well, I think you can see what will happen."

Harry was barely keeping himself from shaking. He was scared at the display of accidental magic he had just shown, and his adrenaline was running out as he turned and walked away, going up to his room and shutting the door with a slam. He slumped down and hugged his knees, shaking and beginning to sob as his rage waned. Asa flared in and said nothing, simply laying his head against Harry's side and singing softly to soothe Harry's pain. As his crying slowed, Asa finally looked up at him and spoke.

_"Harry, look at me. You did well, child. Do not think you have done anything wrong. The man deserved what he got; if your magic had not reacted, he would have beaten you mercilessly, and the results would have been much worse than your cousin's 'games.' I knew you did not need me; I was ready to come at a moment's notice, but you had everything in hand. You were not cruel nor were you timid. You stood up to them better than most adults could. I am proud of you, Harry."_

Harry just nodded, putting an arm gingerly around Asa as he finally relaxed. He sat there until he drifted off to sleep, having exhausted himself from the confrontation, and Asa gently placed him in his bed to rest, keeping watch over the door in case of danger.

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Harry awoke several hours later, rubbing his eyes blearily and reaching for his glasses. He slid them onto his face and looked around, finding himself tucked into bed with Asa keeping a vigilant watch over him. He smiled at his friend and raised himself up, stretching to work out the kinks from his back. He felt refreshed after his little nap, and not a little accomplished for what he had done before. Sure, he disliked that it had come to violence, but he realized now that he couldn't have expected much else. He hoped that after that little scene his relatives would be mindful of leaving him be. He asked Asa if he would mind helping Harry get food for a little while, since he had no real urge to be around his so-called family at the moment. Asa simply chuckled a little and left the room, coming back a little later with a light meal that Harry wolfed down; throwing a whale across a room apparently took a lot of energy from his ten-year-old body.

Just as he was finishing up, he heard a tapping coming from his window yet again. He opened the window and let the same tawny owl into his room, taking its letter and offering it the scraps of leftover food from his plate, which it happily nibbled on while he read.

**Dear Mr. Potter,**

**I am sorry for our negligence in this matter; our acceptance letters are filled automatically and as you are not a Muggleborn your letter was sent out as is normal for those from wizarding families. As well, I would have assumed that your relatives would have informed you of your heritage long before now. Since they have not, I will personally accompany you to get your school supplies along with a Muggleborn girl who will be attending Hogwarts in your year group. I will be by no later than 8:00 A.M. on Saturday, July 20 to gather you. I expect you to be ready and waiting for me, Mr. Potter. You need not bring anything with you; simply be washed and dressed, and ready to go when I arrive.**

**Yours,**

**Minerva McGonagall**

**Deputy Headmistress**

He once more whipped out a pen and paper and wrote down his agreement to the proposed date and time, and expressed his thanks that she would personally be seeing to this matter. He again rolled the page up and fixed it to the owl before it rapidly winged its way out of his room and into the horizon.

Since he was avoiding his relatives for the evening, and since he had nothing better to do, Asa took him back to the beach that they had visited on their very first day together. There they enjoyed the warm summer evening by the seaside, relaxing on the beach and watching the sun set over the ocean. It was night when the two arrived back at the Dursley household, and Harry was thoroughly ready for bed. He curled up with a smile on his face as he thought about the fact that in barely a week's time he would be on his way to his first interaction with the magical world.

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For that week, Harry mostly avoided his relatives; when he could not, they seemed just as ready to avoid him. He would enter a room and they would immediately leave, never even making eye contact. As Saturday finally came, Harry was up and ready far before 8:00. He could barely sleep the night before, he was so eager to get his trip underway. Promptly at 8, there was a knock on the door. Harry let Petunia answer it, knowing that he was being a little vindictive but figuring no real harm would come of it. As she opened the door, she nearly slammed it immediately at the sight of the stern-looking woman in green robes that stood on the threshold. She thought better of it immediately, however, and gave Harry a sideways glance as though she had hoped he would not notice.

"H-Harry," she stammered out, "I believe your visitor has arrived."

Harry made his way to the door, eyeing his aunt in a way that made her slowly back away from the door before she bolted out of the hallway. The woman at the door raised an eyebrow at her odd behavior before looking down at the boy before her. Her carefully-schooled expression nearly broke at the sight of the young boy she had left here all those years ago. He was the spitting image of his father, yet with those startling green eyes that could only have come from his mother, and she felt her heart flutter at finally seeing him again.

"Mr. Potter, I presume?" she asked, obviously knowing that she had the correct boy. Harry nodded, stepping out the door and closing it behind him so they could speak. She looked him up and down once with a frown on her face. "Are you certain you're ready to go, Mr. Potter? Those clothes of yours…"

Harry looked up at the woman before him; she was tall and rather serious-looking, with black hair that she had wrapped in a tight bun. She had square spectacles on the bridge of her nose, and it was through these that she looked back at Harry and directly into his eyes. "Yes ma'am. These are the only clothes I have… They're hand-me-downs from my cousin, and he's a bit large, if you know what I mean. You're Deputy Headmistress McGonagall? It's nice to meet you," he said, offering his hand to her. They had a short handshake before McGonagall spoke again.

As he spoke about his baggy, tattered clothing, her lips drew into a thin line. "Yes, in fact I am. It's a pleasure, Mr. Potter. We should be going soon; I believe I'm beginning to attract a bit of attention from your neighbors, and we have our other party to pick up. I take it your relatives will not be joining us?"

Her tone when she mentioned his relatives almost made it seem that she had already formed an opinion of them, and a fairly accurate one at that. Harry's respect for her grew immediately. She turned and began walking, Harry following along behind her. They found a secluded place where no one would be watching before she pulled out a seemingly blank piece of parchment.

"This, Mr. Potter, is what is called a portkey. When activated, it will take us directly to a location near where we will meet Ms. Granger – our other guest for the day. From there we will take another portkey into Diagon Alley, the magical district in London, where we will be shopping for your school supplies. It will be a bit uncomfortable for you, so I suggest you hold on tightly, Mr. Potter, and try to land on your feet. Come now, we have much to do and should not dilly-dally."

Harry took hold of the parchment and Minerva placed what appeared to be a wooden stick – her wand, Harry thought – to the parchment. She spoke, "Portus," before they were whisked away. Harry felt as though a hook had grabbed hold of him somewhere behind his navel and pulled him hard in another direction. _"'Uncomfortable' is right…"_ he thought as they arrived and he promptly fell flat on his face. With a soft groan, he pulled himself up and dusted himself off, looking around at their new surroundings.

They were in another secluded side-street, though in a very different neighborhood. As opposed to the cookie-cutter houses that littered Privet Drive, this area seemed a bit more upscale, and the houses were all somewhat different from each other. They made their way up to one of the houses, and McGonagall knocked on the door a few times before they heard the sound of footsteps – some very excited footsteps – approaching from inside. The door was pulled open and there before them stood a young girl with untamable brown hair and a bucktoothed grin from ear to ear.

"Mom! Dad! They're here!" she shouted into the house before offering them to come in. She looked at Harry with a bit of a funny expression, but didn't say anything as he stepped into the house on McGonagall's heels.

He was greeted by the sight of a home that seemed as though it had actually been _lived in_, in stark contrast with the Dursleys' nearly sterile household. The cozy atmosphere made him smile as he took in the framed photographs on the wall, each seemingly depicting another accomplishment that the young girl had accomplished. And, just then, that same young girl tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hello," she began, apparently trying to act professionally to cover her nervousness, "I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger. And you are?"

Harry smiled at the girl, offering his hand to her as he replied, "Harry. Harry Potter. It's nice to meet you, Hermione;" he gestured at the series of pictures hung on the wall behind him and said, "I see that you've got quite the head on your shoulders."

The girl lost her fight with nervousness at his last comment, shaking his hand with a blush on her cheeks. "I suppose you could say that…" she mumbled, avoiding his eyes. She knew that Harry must be like her, and she hoped that they could get off to a good start. He didn't seem like he was about to make fun of her, at least, and that was something.

Harry shivered just a bit as he came into contact with Hermione. He had the oddest sensation about this girl; it felt… pure? He could almost tell that this girl was kind-hearted just by looking at her. He made note of the feeling and resolved to ask Asa when he had a spare moment. For now, he merely smiled wider.

McGonagall cleared her throat, startling the two a little since they had not quite been paying attention. "Yes, well, I'm glad you two have gotten acquainted. Ms. Granger, I have spoken with your parents and I see that they have decided to stay behind today. Here is the money they have given you for your supplies; we will convert it once we reach the Alley. If you are ready, we may go at any time."

Hermione nodded her approval and McGonagall yet again pulled out a sheet of parchment. Hermione looked at it quizzically before the stern matron explained to her what a portkey was, giving her the same warning she had given Harry before. Harry leaned in and whispered, "Trust me, 'uncomfortable' is an understatement." Hermione just gave him a look before taking hold of a corner of the parchment, and they were whisked away to an arrival point in non-magical London. McGonagall wanted to give the pair the chance to see the magical entrance to Diagon Alley.

She led the two along the street until they came upon the Leaky Cauldron, the children looking up as the sign faded into view. They looked around and noticed that nobody else seemed to be paying them, or the bar, any attention. Before either could ask the question that was on both of their minds, McGonagall said, "Notice-me-not wards. They cannot even see the entrance; they walk straight past without a second thought. Since we are here, we are covered by the wards and they will not see us unless we make quite the ruckus."

Hermione looked as though she was about to launch a whole slew of questions about the information she had just been given, but was stopped as McGonagall opened the doorway and walked inside. The pair follow her, looking around with their noses screwed up at the dingy interior. Harry couldn't help but mutter, "Couldn't they clean this place up? I mean they have _magic_ after all…" He heard Hermione giggle softly beside him, obviously agreeing with his assessment.

Just then, Harry was stopped in his tracks as he heard his name shouted from across the bar. "Harry Potter? Good lord, is it really… could it really be?..." Harry's eyes grew wide as he turned around to face the crowd of people now staring directly at him. How could they know his name? Why were they all staring at him like that? What-

Before he could even complete that thought, a crush of people swarmed them. Instinctively Harry reached out and took hold of Hermione's hand, making sure that she wasn't separated from him in the crowd. He was facing people in every direction, some asking for autographs, some wanting to touch him, some going so far as to _propose_ to him! His head was swimming with confusion and before he knew it his magic welled up inside of him. Just as the professor was about to cast a Sonorus on herself to tell the crowd to quiet down, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "GET AWAY FROM ME!"

And get away they did. Forcefully. Like a bowling ball knocking over pins, the crowd was knocked off their feet and straight onto their arses by a wave of uncontrolled magic that rippled outwards from Harry, with only him, Hermione, and McGonagall staying on their feet. Hermione stared at the crowd in shock, and turned to face Harry, a look of incredulity on her face. The bar had gone deathly silent. When McGonagall recovered, she cleared her throat and cast the spell she had been readying moments before. "You all," her voice rang out, "should be ashamed of yourselves. Look at you, attacking an eleven-year-old boy! Some first impression you've given the lad! Pick yourselves up and get back to your business! We have very important things to get done today and I will not tolerate being interrupted this way!"

Everyone in the room winced at McGonagall's tone; most knew it well from their Hogwarts days, and it brooked no argument. The crowd stood up one by one and went back to their tables, casting the group sideways glances and muttering to each other about what had just happened.

McGonagall placed her hands on her two charges' backs and directed them to the back of the bar where a brick wall awaited. Before she did anything else, she turned to Harry and, in a display that would have shocked the patrons in the barroom had they seen it, lowered herself to his level and put an arm on his shoulder.

"Harry," she began, "first, I would like to say that was an impressive display of magic. I'm sure that you'll be a powerful wizard one day."

Harry looked at her, somewhat thankful for the comment but waiting for the explanation that he knew was coming.

"As for what just happened… It's a long story." She looked at Hermione out of the corner of her eye, obviously wondering whether Harry wanted her to be there for this. Harry, calmly as he could, spoke up. "She was there for it too, ma'am. And somehow I get the feeling that whatever that was, she'll find out about it anyways."

McGonagall nodded her head, and whipped out her wand to cast privacy charms around them. She explained to the pair the reasons for what had just happened; she covered the war with Voldemort, the way that people still flinched at his name, and the night of Harry's parents' murder and his supposed defeat of the Dark Lord as an infant. By the end, Harry was looking down at his hands, obviously deep in thought. He wondered to himself how it was that he could have done such a thing before he could even speak; he wondered how anyone could know what had happened at all, since no one had been there to witness it. He found himself immediately hating that he was famous for something he couldn't remember, if he had done it at all. Hermione didn't look too pleased, either. She could see that Harry was just another boy; he was no all-powerful wizard, at least not yet.

As McGonagall had explained the stories that people told about Harry, and that there had been books written left, right, and center about his supposed escapades since that day, she found herself getting furious. The thought that people were writing these books and passing them off as fact when they clearly were not was painful to her, as she had spent most of her life deep in literature. It made her question the things she thought she knew, wondering now whether she should have trusted the books she had read for all these years.

Harry found himself immediately resolved to fix his image. He needed to wipe away all of the rumors and outright lies that had been spread about him. He wasn't sure where to start, but he knew that it was going to take work to accomplish.

That finished, and with Harry and Hermione calmed down a bit, McGonagall tapped her wand against the bricks in a certain pattern and they unfolded to reveal Diagon Alley. The sight was almost enough to make the pair forget the hassle they had just been through; the sheer number of sights and sounds was almost overwhelming to the two children who had never seen anything magical in their lives (well, aside from their accidental magic and Harry's interactions with Asa). They made their way up the street to the wizarding bank, Gringotts, with Harry keeping his head down the whole way so as not to draw attention to himself.

They came up upon the stoic building, made entirely of snow-white marble. As they walked up to the large bronze doors, Harry and Hermione took note of the odd little creature next to the door. "Goblins," McGonagall explained, "are the owners and operators of Gringotts. They are very serious creatures, and especially so when it concerns financial matters."

The goblin bowed to them as they approached, and Harry and Hermione glanced at one another before returning the bow. The goblin stood there with his mouth hanging open, staring at them as though they had just told him they were the King and Queen of Britain. They didn't understand his reaction, but moved on as their guide led the way into the bank. A second pair of doors, silver this time, greeted them, and their eyes were drawn to the inscription above them:

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

They had heard McGonagall when she had said that goblins took their money seriously, but the warning had certainly driven it home. They entered through the large silver doors, greeted yet again by bows which they returned to similar reactions as the one outside, and observed the large room before them. They approached a teller and McGonagall explained that they were there to exchange Hermione's currency to wizard money, and to visit Harry's vault. Harry quirked an eyebrow at this, but said nothing, trusting McGonagall to know what to do. Hermione handed over her money and was given a pouch containing several coins in bronze, silver, and a few gold. She had the currency explained to her, and nodded in understanding as to the value of the coins she had been given. McGonagall then handed over a small golden key at the goblin's request, handing it down to Harry with instructions to keep it safe and secure as they went over to one of the many doors leading off of the hall, led by a goblin whose name was apparently Griphook.

They entered the door to find a steep stone passage that had tracks leading down along the floor; Griphook gave a whistle and a cart sped its way up out of the darkness to stop in front of them. The three climbed in and were off with a start, whizzing along through a twisting, turning maze that Harry knew must have taken them deep, deep underground. Once, he thought he had caught a glimpse of an enormous creature breathing a blast of flames, but couldn't be sure since it was gone as quickly as it had come. The cart came to an abrupt stop outside of a small door set into the stone wall of the passageway.

The quartet stepped out from the cart and Griphook asked Harry for his key. The goblin opened the door and ushered the trio in, where Harry and Hermione immediately halted at the sight before them. Coins. Mountains of gold and silver and bronze littered the space inside, and Harry felt like his head was about to pop off his shoulders from the speed he was turning it to look around the room.

He turned to McGonagall with a look of apprehension on his face. "This… this is mine? All of this? Seriously?!" McGonagall simply nodded, an uncharacteristic smile on her face at the amazed look that Harry and Hermione were giving her. Griphook handed Harry a small pouch – "bigger on the inside," he explained – and Harry went with McGonagall to scoop a good sized portion into the bag. As they left, the goblin explained that this was simply Harry's trust vault with a yearly withdrawal limit that lasted until he was seventeen, when he could rightfully claim his family vault. The idea that there was even _more_ buried away somewhere beneath the bank, and that it all belonged to him, made his mind reel. He knew that the Dursleys had no idea this was here, or they would have done everything in their power to take it from him; he also knew that they were _never_ going to find out about it.

One cart ride later – this time Harry was _sure_ he had seen a dragon off to one side – they arrived back at the doors leading into the bank lobby. They stepped off and headed back out the doors into the Alley, never noticing the appraising looks that the goblins were directing towards the two children and the hushed whispers that were being muttered between them.

They stepped once more into the daylight and saw the alley laid before them. Now, money in hand, they were about to get their first real taste of the wizarding world and all it had in store for them. The pair looked at each other and couldn't keep grins off their faces as they thought about what was to come.

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A/N: So there's Chapter 2! I hope you guys have enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'd hoped to get to the shopping proper, but it seemed that the chapter was long enough already. We'll see what happens next time! Please review if you can, I've gotten a few for Chapter 1 and the encouragement has been wonderful. See you next time!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters and plot elements are the sole property of J.K. Rowling and other affiliated copyright holders. Otherwise, they are spawned from some strange place in my head. I seek no profits from this story, simply to share what I've come up with.

A/N: People! You've been amazing! I've gotten tons of views and reviews and favorites and follows and I just cannot express how flattered I am. I'm sorry it's been a little bit since the second chapter, but as I hope you'll understand the holidays are kind of a busy time, and it's been hard to get the time to write up this chapter. I'm hoping to start keeping a weekly update schedule or something close to it so that I can have the time to work while I'm back in school. I may even be able to work up a backlog if I'm lucky, which would keep this story going even if I get busy. We'll see on that… For now, here's Chapter 3!

**Guys: Sorry that Chapter 4 is late... I got really sick this past week, and it took me until Wednesday to actually get underway on writing. I'm about to go back to college for spring semester, but I expect to have this done by Tuesday at the very latest. I don't know if this will alert those of you who are following, but I wanted to let you know in case you check up on the story.**

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**Chapter 3**

_They stepped once more into the daylight and saw the alley laid before them. Now, money in hand, they were about to get their first real taste of the wizarding world and all it had in store for them. The pair looked at each other and couldn't keep grins off their faces as they thought about what was to come._

Harry and Hermione's first stop was to purchase trunks to hold all of their new belongings. They decided they'd simply like standard school trunks, though both opted for the optional feather-light charm so they would be easier to carry. They then went off to be fitted for their school robes; they entered Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and met the smiling proprietor of the store. Madam Malkin's assistant took Hermione to be fitted for her robes while she personally took Harry off at the first sight of him, determined to find him something better than the rags he'd arrived in. Minerva considered objecting to the extra time, but decided against it since she quite honestly agreed that he needed rid of those things.

A short while later Harry came back wearing some casual wizarding clothes that could pass fairly well in the non-magical world. He had specifically chosen clothing that he could wear in place of his hand-me-downs in both worlds so that he could simply burn the old things. He only got a few outfits, but didn't mind washing them more often so he wouldn't have to go around looking like a beggar anymore. Hermione had already gotten her robes finished by that point, so the trio set off back into the alley to get on with their task.

On the way to the next destination they passed by Quality Quidditch Supplies and when Harry asked, McGonagall explained the rules of the most popular wizarding sport. The idea that wizards and witches _actually_ _flew on brooms_ was somewhat hilarious to Harry, and he wondered which side, magical or non-magical, had started the idea. When Harry hung back to look at the brooms for a moment too long, Hermione promptly took his arm and began leading him excitedly towards the wizarding bookstore, Flourish and Blotts.

They entered the store and Hermione immediately broke away from the group to explore the stacks. Harry wandered through, picking up his school books first before looking for anything else he thought might be interesting. He added a couple of books on the basics of magical theory and one on household magic, since he figured it would be useful to know how to do some everyday tasks. Hermione, however, came up with a pile of books twice the size of his on all sorts of topics, including everything from wizarding fairy tales to extra books on magic they wouldn't even start learning about until third year. She lugged up her purchases and the shopkeeper's eyes brightened as he got to work tallying up the total price. Hermione had had some extra money from her parents just for such an occasion and came out with just enough left to buy the rest of her school materials. Harry paid for his purchases as well and, after filling their trunks, they set off once more.

The group visited a shop selling potions equipment as well as the apothecary to pick up supplies they would need for their potions and herbology classes, and soon enough the only thing left on their list was to buy their wands. And so they made their way into Ollivander's (Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C., or so the sign said), hearing a tinkling bell as they stepped through the doorway.

"Ah…" came a voice from the back of the shop. A small old man with wide, silvery eyes entered the room, looking at the two children with a startling intensity. "Harry Potter, I had a feeling I would be seeing you soon. And hello to you, Ms. Granger. Always a pleasure to see a new face come through the doors."

Hermione and Harry stared agape at the odd little man, wondering how on earth he had known who they were. Before they could ask, Mr. Ollivander began fussing over Hermione, setting a magical measuring tape to work on her as he began rifling through boxed of wands, speaking the entire time about wands as though they were almost sentient. After trying several, many of which the wandmaker simply plucked away barely after she had touched them, he handed her a wand that produced a brilliant shower of sparks after she gave it a wave. Mr. Ollivander clapped his hands excitedly and proclaimed she had found her match. "Vinewood with dragon heartstring, 10 ¾ inches, very versatile though especially good for transfiguration work."

He then turned to Harry with an odd look in his eye. "Alright, Mr. Potter. Your turn." The magical tape went about its work again, measuring every conceivable distance around Harry's body, and Ollivander once more plucked out boxes and boxes of wands. They went through many more wands than Hermione had, and eventually even Ollivander seemed to be getting a bit frustrated. He tapped his chin thoughtfully and muttered "I wonder…" before wandering into the back of his shop. He returned with another few boxes of wands, handing the instruments over one at a time. Ollivander hesitantly offered one wand, and when Harry gave it a wave it emitted a bright flash of red and gold sparks. Mr. Ollivander seemed pleased, but Harry frowned thoughtfully. He gave it one more practice wave and Ollivander seemed that he was about to speak, but Harry interrupted him.

"It feels a bit… sluggish? Like it's struggling a little to push out the sparks. Is that normal?"

Ollivander frowned once more and murmured to himself for a moment before plucking back the wand. "I had a feeling it would have been that wand, Mr. Potter, and it's a good match for you. It would make some sense; after all, this wand is the brother to the one that gave you that scar."

McGonagall gasped softly from the corner and Harry reached up absently to touch the lightning bolt that stood out on his forehead. "Brother? What do you mean?"

"Well, Harry, this wand contains a phoenix feather as its core. That phoenix only ever provided two feathers, and one of them was in the wand that chose You-Know-Who. I was almost certain this would be yours, but it appears it's not quite a perfect match. Still, we have learned something. Here, try this one…"

Ollivander handed over another wand and, when Harry gave it a wave, he felt almost as though he was simply waving his hand. Another fountain of stars and sparks flew from the wand, this time gold and white. Harry smiled, and knew this wand was his.

"Yes, yes, this is the one for you. Birch and phoenix feather, 10 ½", light and quite sturdy. Still, a curious match..."

"Why's that, sir?"

"Well, this wand was just finished yesterday evening, as a matter of fact. A week ago, a phoenix appeared right here in the shop. Nearly scared the daylights out of me. It simply plucked off a tailfeather, placed it on my workbench, and left just as quickly as it came. Funny that you should come through my door so quickly after it was made; most wands sit on these shelves for years before they find their wizard."

Harry felt the tickle of Asa's chuckle in his mind and sent back a wave of amused chastisement. He knew instantly that it had been his familiar who had provided the feather for his wand, and he was glad that it had chosen him. He smiled at Ollivander and handed the man his payment.

"I guess I'm lucky I didn't come sooner, then. This feels perfect, sir. Thank you very much!"

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The trio stepped out of Ollivander's and squinted a little at the sudden change in lighting. It was coming upon lunch, and McGonagall decided to let the children explore the alleyway's shops. After expressly forbidding them from going towards Knockturn Alley, she let the pair lead the way around to see all of the sights and sounds that Diagon had to offer. Eventually, after roaming several of the miscellaneous shops, they came upon Eeylops Owl Emporium. Harry and Hermione went straight in, looking around at all of the interesting animals and supplies that were littering the cramped shop.

Harry wandered around the store for a while until a fluttering from his left caught his attention. As he turned, a barn owl that had been perched a few meters away winged its way over to him. He nearly flinched away, but at the last moment he recognized the familiar shape and reddish-brown plumage of Asa's disguised form. He held his arm out for the bird to land on, smiling at his friend as he settled in on Harry's shoulder. A short mental conversation later and Harry was walking up to the till, pet supplies in hand and Asa perched on his shoulder.

"Excuse me sir," he began, "it seems that I've been adopted by this owl. I'd like to purchase him and these supplies." He set an assortment of items out on the counter, including a standing perch and a variety of owl treats (that were mostly for show, since Asa could easily do his own hunting). He didn't feel the need to get a cage, since he knew that Asa had much better methods of traveling than being cooped up behind bars. The shopowner looked over the items and up at the owl, a strange look passing over his face briefly. "You know, I don't remember that owl being in here. Then again, there are a lot of them about. Ah well. It'll be 13 Galleons and 11 Sickles."

Harry pulled out the required amount from his money pouch and handed it to the man. Hermione, standing behind him, approached him with a smile on her face. "So you've got an owl now? I was thinking about getting one so I could send letters to my parents, but I can't really afford it right now. He's beautiful! What will you name him?"

He turned to her and grinned as Asa preened himself slightly at her compliment. "His name is Asa. I'm sorry you can't get an owl for yourself…" here, he turned to Asa with a questioning look, "but I think he wouldn't mind helping you talk to your family, if you wanted."

Hermione smiled brightly at the offer, reaching out to stroke Asa's feathers gently. "Oh, thank you Harry! And thank you, Asa! I know my parents would hate it if I couldn't keep in touch while I'm off at Hogwarts." Asa presses his head into Hermione's hand gently to show his approval, and Hermione gave him a gentle scratching in return. McGonagall shrank some of Harry's new equipment down so that he could fit it in his trunk, and the group left the store with Asa still perched on Harry's shoulder.

With that, and with all of their purchases made, McGonagall shrunk both of their trunks to a manageable size so that they wouldn't have to carry them through the non-magical world in public. She gave them passwords that would resize the trunk to normal, so that they would have access to their things once they were situated at home. The contents, she said, simply required a tap from their wand to revert to normal.

The trio stopped off for lunch at one of the many restaurants littering the alley, and Harry and Hermione took this opportunity to get to know each other a little, talking about their hopes for their time at Hogwarts and all of the new things they had been exposed to that day. After eating their fill, they made their way off to the side of the alley and McGonagall once more held out a slip of parchment. Harry told Asa to fly back to the Dursleys', and the children each took a corner of the page and were whisked off once more by that strange hooking sensation.

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The two managed to stay on their feet without much wobbling, though Harry was absolutely certain he would never be able to get used to that awful feeling in his stomach.

"Here we are, Ms. Granger, let's get you back home. Mr. Potter, I will take you to your relatives' house once we've finished here."

They marched their way up to Hermione's front door, where she turned back to say goodbye. "Thank you, Professor, for taking me to get my things. And it was nice to meet you, Harry. We should try to meet up again when we get on the train! That is, if you want to, I mean, I don't want to assume…" she trailed off, blushing a little as she realized she might have overstepped her bounds. Harry chuckled a little and accepted her offer, shaking her hand before she turned to the door and walked inside. As Harry and McGonagall walked away, they could hear the excited chatter of Hermione telling her parents all about her first exposure to the magical world.

Harry was happy to have met Hermione, and he was happy that she was able to share her excitement with her family, but as he turned away he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy that he didn't have parents to tell about his day. He knew that the Dursleys would never want to hear about it, and he didn't have anyone else. McGonagall must have noticed this shift in Harry's mood, because she chose that moment to speak up.

"Mr. Potter… Harry." He looked up at her, his attention grabbed by her use of his first name. "I am truly sorry that your relatives are not… appreciative, of your gifts. I taught your parents when they went to Hogwarts, Harry. Your mother and father were both in Gryffindor house, of which I am the Head, and I came to know them very well. I want you to know that they would be proud of you, Harry. I am sorry that they are not here to tell you themselves… But I know that they would, if they were able to."

Harry stared at her for a moment in surprise. He choked out a quiet "Thank you, ma'am" before he turned to wipe at his eyes, his throat clenching with emotion at hearing about his parents for the first time in his life. "Would you…" he began uncertainly, before firming his resolve and turning back to her, "Would you mind telling me about them sometime? Do… do you have any pictures, maybe? I'd like to know what they looked like…"

McGonagall used all of her strength to keep her sadness from showing on her face. The thought that Harry had never even seen a photograph of his own parents, nor had he heard even one story about them, nearly broke her heart. She began to get very angry at the Dursleys, and she knew that a certain Headmaster would be getting a talking-to later that evening. For the moment, she schooled her expression and gave Harry a tense smile. "I would be glad to, Harry. I am certain I can find you a picture or two, your parents had many friends in our world. And you may come speak with me at Hogwarts; if I am free, I would be more than happy to tell you about them."

The joy that Harry felt caused him to run to her and throw his arms around her legs in a hug. McGonagall was frozen in surprise for a moment before she slowly leant down to return his hug, her usually-stern exterior broken by the crying boy before her.

After a time, Harry's emotions calmed and he looked up into McGonagall's face. He saw that she had unshed tears in her eyes, and felt his heart warm at the thought that this woman cared about him enough to show this side of herself. He knew from earlier that day that she was usually a firm, unyielding woman, but in that moment he saw her softer side, and knew that he was one of the few to ever see her this way. He whispered one more "Thank you" before he broke away from the hug. McGonagall stood, straightening her robes and clearing her throat softly before pulling out the same parchment and turning it into a portkey to take them back to Surrey. Much as she hated the thought of leaving Harry with his relatives again, she could only hope he would be safe until September came.

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The pair arrived on Privet Drive and quietly made their way to the Dursleys' home. Harry knocked at the door, and the two waited for a moment before Petunia opened it a crack to check who was there. When she saw Harry on the stoop, she simply turned and walked away, leaving the door cracked for him to enter. He said goodbye to McGonagall, a tender smile on his face as he walked inside. McGonagall popped away as he was entering the door, and so missed what happened next.

As Harry crossed the threshold, holding his trunk in his arms, the whistling sound of something moving through the air alerted him that something was approaching. In that instant, he caught a glimpse of a baseball bat approaching his face and dropped his trunk to the floor, clenching his eyes shut in expectation of the impact; the impact that never came. He heard a thud as something bounced off the wall to his right. He opened his eyes to see his uncle standing there, his face white with fear, one half of the bat in his meaty hands while another piece sat a few meters away, both pieces alight with a pure white flame where they had separated.

He turned away from the detached piece of wood, glaring daggers at his uncle. His breath was coming in deep huffs as he tried to quell the rising magic that flooded his chest. A hot wind picked up around him, and he saw Vernon begin to back away from him slowly. The man fell back on his arse, crawling backwards still as the wind increased to gale forces. Suddenly, the bat that sat by him exploded into splinters, all of which seemed to find their way into his body. Harry turned and stormed up the stairs, his uncle's cries echoing through the house.

He shut the door to his room with a slam, and threw himself onto his bed, closing his eyes and focusing as hard as he could on calming his mind and his magic. After a few minutes of this, his breathing finally slowed and he cracked his eyes open slowly to find Asa sat beside him on the bed in his owl form, looking at him with sadness in his deep black eyes. Harry could feel that his familiar's rage was boiling beneath the surface, and reached a hand out to stroke the phoenix's crown.

"I thought today was going so well. I thought that nothing could bring me down, but then… But then this happened. What am I going to do, Asa? I don't think I can stay with these people much longer. And if Vernon goes to the hospital over this, who knows what might happen? What should I do now?..."

Asa spoke softly into Harry's mind, pressing his head against Harry's hand. _"For what he attempted, your uncle deserved much worse. I understand your worries, Harry, and much as I am loathe to share my tears with such a man, I believe it must be done. Fetch me a vial from your trunk, and I shall fill it for you."_

And so Harry resized his trunk, opening it and rummaging around for his potions supplies. He pulled out a small glass vial and held it to Asa's eye. The phoenix let several tears fall, and Harry stoppered the bottle once he was finished.

He made his way down the stairs to find Vernon laid out on the couch, Petunia knelt beside him trying to pick out the shards of wood that were embedded in his skin. As Harry entered the room, she looked up with fear in her eyes and stumbled backwards in her attempt to get away from him.

"Aunt Petunia," he began, "I have something that will heal him, much as he doesn't deserve it. I did not intend to harm him; my magic simply reacted to the situation." He tossed the vial of phoenix tears to his aunt, watching her fumble with it for a moment before clutching it to her chest.

"Make him drink that. And don't let this happen again."

Harry turned away and walked up the stairs back to his room. He placed his hand on Asa once more, stroking his familiar's feathers gently as he sat in thought. _"Asa," _he thought, _"that fire. What was that? Is it to do with our bond?"_

_"We share our magic, Harry. I believe you borrowed my flame in that moment. I would not be surprised if you find that you have become attuned with fire magic through me. As well, I believe I noticed another effect today. You recall the feeling you had about young Ms. Granger, yes? That strange sense of clarity as you shook her hand? I believe you have inherited some of the empathy of my kind. She is truly pure-hearted, and you sensed that through our bond, Harry. A very useful ability to have, my friend, and one I believe will serve you well in the magical world."_

Harry considered this information and nodded his agreement. _"You're right, I definitely felt that from her. Is it normal for this to happen?"_

_"It is not unheard of, when a bond is strong between a wizard and a magical being. And our bond is a strong one indeed."_

Harry smiled at this. He knew that he and Asa were close, but to be so close that their magic was mixing this way warmed his heart. He pulled his friend close to him and held him in a loose hug, feeling relaxed in the moment.

A moment later, a hesitant knock came from the door and he opened his eyes, turning to look at the door suspiciously.

"Come in." he said, though uncertain that he truly wanted to invite anyone into his sanctuary. Petunia opened the door slowly, her hands showing as though to say, "I'm unarmed. I surrender." She bit her lip and avoided Harry's eyes for a moment before speaking up.

"I- I'm sorry, for what Vernon did. I shouldn't have let it happen." Harry knew that this apology was mostly made in fear; she regretted Vernon's actions simply because they hadn't worked out. Still, he said nothing, and let her continue. "And… and thank you, for whatever that was you gave him. He's all better. I… I don't like that it was magic that did it, but he's healed and that's what counts to me. I wanted to tell you, we… We'll leave you be from now on."

Since this last part seemed genuine, he answered her. "You're welcome. But you aren't forgiven, and you never will be. You've called me a freak all my life, told me that I shouldn't even exist, that I'd have been better off dying with my parents so you wouldn't be saddled with me. You try so hard to be normal, but look at you. Look at what you did to me my whole life. You people are monsters. He deserved worse than he got, and he certainly didn't deserve my help. Remember that. Now go, Aunt Petunia. Don't talk to me again."

She nodded, tears in her eyes as she closed the door and walked away. Harry sighed softly and turned back to Asa, who was still held in his arms. _"Will you take me to our beach, my friend? I need to get away from here."_

Asa pressed his head against Harry's chest, and in a burst of flames they were sat on that same lonely beach that they had visited so many times before. Harry stared out into the horizon, watching the waves crash into the shore and smelling the salt of the ocean spray as it wafted through the air. The two sat in silence for a long while, just watching the sun set off in the distance. As it turned night, Asa whispered into Harry's mind.

_"Harry, you have had a long day, but there is one thing that must be done now. I have waited this long so that you would know about the night your parents died; about the war; about the foolish wizard who called himself Voldemort. I did not tell you before, for I knew that this day would come and reveal to you what effect that night has had on you and your world. I ask you to prepare yourself, Harry, for what I am going to tell you, and what we must do, will not be pleasant. There is a piece of him, Harry, locked in your mind. A fragment of the madman, torn from him that night as you lay in your crib. It lies in you, Harry, and must be removed. I needed you to know before I could do this, and it was not my place to tell you. I hope you can forgive me for this."_

Harry simply looked Asa in the eyes and nodded. He knew that his familiar was wise, and trusted his judgment unwaveringly. _"What do I have to do?"_

_"I need you to look into your mind. Open yourself to me, and we will find this piece of him that lies dormant inside of you. Removing him will hurt, Harry; it will hurt worse than anything you have felt before, and for that I am truly sorry. But I think you will agree that it must be done."_

Harry nodded his assent, closing his eyes and taking himself into his mindscape. He felt Asa settle on his lap, and felt his head rested upon his forehead, right over his apparently-infamous scar. His familiar appeared before him, and the pair began to make their way through Harry's mind, looking for the intruder. They worked their way deeper and deeper in, moving towards the darkest recesses of Harry's web, until they found a form wrapped in dark silk, Harry's spiders circling the area in droves. They cautiously approached, and Harry looked to Asa for instructions.

_"We must cut it loose, Harry. It will not be easy. It is possible it will wake, and if so it will struggle. You must be strong, Harry, and force it from your mind with all of your will. Together, we will defeat this abomination."_

Harry stood to one side of the wrapped form, with Asa opposite him, and they began to slowly unweave the surrounding webbing. They made good progress, clearing nearly half of the strands connecting it to Harry's mind, before a sudden shriek pounded throughout Harry's mindscape and the piece of soul began to shudder violently. Harry nearly faltered, but continued to cut away at the cords as Asa began singing a song, boosting his resolve and seemingly causing the quivering mass pain, for its shrieking became louder still. Harry's head was pounding, and as he cut the last cord the cocoon burst open, a decrepit fetal creature emerging from the remains. As it approached him, Harry began to shudder violently in pain, his whole body feeling as though it had been flayed and salted.

Asa swooped into the creature and clawed at it, shouting to Harry _"Cast it out! Gather your will, Harry, and throw it from your mind!" _The phoenix grabbed the disgusting creature and held it back, pecking and scratching at it with all his might. Harry stared up at his familiar and, with everything he had, pushed his magic at the thing in a massive burst. As soon as the wave of magic struck, Asa flamed away with the creature in tow, and Harry knew no more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ HoNB ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry opened his eyes to find the moon dangling overhead amidst a star-flecked sky. He let out a groan and closed his eyes again, feeling as though his head had been run over by a truck. Repeatedly. He felt Asa's warm body next to him, and heard his familiar softly singing his soothing song for Harry. Gradually, he managed to open his eyes and sit up slightly, though the second he was upright he turned and heaved onto the sand next to him. He placed a hand on his forehead and felt that it was slick; he pulled his hand away to see that it had a dark substance on it that felt like thickened blood.

"Asa…" he began, coughing a little before he continued, "What happened? How long was I out?"

_"It has been several hours, Harry. You did it. You pushed, and I tore the beastly thing from your mind. It's gone, Harry, and it will not return. Your scar burst open when it was removed. What is on your hand came from inside. I have healed your wound, and I suggest you wash away the ichor before we go."_

Harry shakily stood and walked over to the shoreline, dipping his hands in the water and washing off his face. He dried himself on his shirt and came back to Asa, feeling slightly steadier on his feet as the pain in his head began to fade. Asa winged onto Harry's shoulder and they flared away, arriving back in Harry's room at the Dursleys'. He hated to stay there, but knew he had nowhere else he could go at that moment, and he was at least sure that his relatives would be leaving him alone from now on. He flopped onto his bed, exhausted from his long day of shopping, the incident with his uncle, and the removal of the soul fragment. He was asleep in seconds with Asa curled up at his side, the phoenix feeling tired from the effort he had exerted during the ordeal on the beach.

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A/N: OKAY! So this is FINALLY complete. I'm really sorry, guys, but like I said, holidays came in the way, and I was having a few issues working out the flow here at the end. Credit for fitting in the horcrux removal goes to serialkeller, my first ever reviewer! I'm gonna have a ton of free time this coming week, so the next update ought to be pushed out by next Wednesday or so. Reviews are ALWAYS welcome, especially any constructive criticism or suggestions, since (as should be obvious from the above) I may decide that your ideas are important to the storyline! I'm writing this for you, dear readers, and so long as it fits with my ideas well enough I'll be considering your ideas thoroughly. 'Til next time, guys!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters and plot elements are the sole property of J.K. Rowling and other affiliated copyright holders. Otherwise, they are spawned from some strange place in my head. I seek no profits from this story, simply to share what I've come up with.

A/N: Okay! Chapter 4! YEAH! In news, I've been ill lately. I haven't had a whole lot of time to devote to working on this; most of my days have been spent sleeping on and off between taking painkillers. It's possible that I'm going to give this chapter a revision while I work on Chapter 5, so you may want to re-read it once the next update rolls out. I'll have a **bolded** announcement on Chapter 5's A/N if I do decide to do that.

A/N: p.s., sections between *s is taken directly or paraphrased from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ HoNB ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Chapter 4**

_He flopped onto his bed, exhausted from his long day of shopping, the incident with his uncle, and the removal of the soul fragment. He was asleep in seconds with Asa curled up at his side, the phoenix feeling tired from the effort he had exerted during the ordeal on the beach._

Harry rose slowly the following morning, groaning as he cracked open his eyes and found that it was nearly noon. He pushed himself onto his feet and shuffled to the loo, his eyes drooping in exhaustion. He washed up slowly, relishing the feeling of the warm water as it pounded his sore body. Every muscle seemed to protest movement after the stress of the previous night. When he finished, he made his way to the mirror to try and tame his unruly hair as best he could. His shower had helped him feel at least a little more refreshed, but as he stepped out the door he had to turn back and rush to the mirror.

He stared at his reflection, pushing up his fringe as he examined his scar. The mark was now only a shadow of its former self; where once it was a reddish color that stood out prominently, it was now only a thin white line. It was still noticeable, certainly, but nowhere near as much as it had been just the day before. He couldn't help but trace his finger over it in disbelief, verifying that what he was seeing was real. He couldn't have kept the smile from his face if he had tried. The blemish that had marred his face for years had faded away, just like the fragment of the man that had put it there in the first place. Sure, it wasn't gone entirely, but in a way he was glad. Before, it was like a signal to the world of what Voldemort had done that night. Now, he thought, it seemed more personal; like a reminder of what his parents had given up to save him.

He left the restroom with a smile on his face, returning to his room to spend the day resting. He used his time to begin reading his school books, working his way through the first chapter of each. Along the way, he worked on repairing the damage to his Occlumency that the previous night had caused. Many sections of his web had been weakened or even destroyed, and he took the opportunity to strengthen his mindscape and its defenses as he filed away the information he was learning. As well as his reading, he practiced using his wand, getting used to the feeling of holding it in his hand as he tried out the wand movements that went with some of the spells he was learning about. Of course, he didn't actually want to cast any of the spells, knowing that magic was not allowed outside of school until he was of age, so he practiced the pronunciations separately from the movements just to be safe.

Once done with studying his textbooks, he moved on to some of his supplementary reading. He skimmed through his books on magical theory, and looked through the book he had purchased on household spells for anything that seemed particularly useful. He went through more wand movements and incantations, covering simple things like cleaning charms and spells to keep things from being damaged. After he had finished his reading for the day, he made the decision to continue his studying over the course of the next month. He found the magic he was learning about fascinating, and wanted to get ahead of the game when it came time to actually put his knowledge to use. The way he figured it, he had plenty of time to work through his books for at least half of the term, so he wrote out a schedule that would keep him plenty busy while he eagerly awaited the arrival of the first of September.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ HoNB ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The month of August passed swiftly, with Harry alternately absorbed in his work and getting out of the house to play. He and Asa made a few more trips to their beach before the weather turned too cold, though the place had begun to feel different since the exorcism of Voldemort's soul fragment. There was something about the stretch of sand and sea that had once felt so safe, but now it was clouded by the memory of that night. Still, the two had fun together, and the place held many more good memories than bad.

As well, during the time he was waiting for his trip to Hogwarts, Harry and Asa made a few journeys out into the world. Specifically, they returned to Diagon Alley and to Gringotts, removing some currency in both non-magical and wizarding varieties. He took the opportunity to visit a glasses shop in the alley, and exchanged his battered old pair of round spectacles – the prescription of which didn't match Harry's needs whatsoever – for a new pair, these having a forest green frame with smaller, rectangular lenses. He weighed his options on getting any enhancements to the lenses, but figured he could have it done later if he found a need for it. He went back into Flourish and Blotts, perusing the stacks once more for anything interesting. Leaving the academic section, he found a few interesting novels that he figured he could read to occupy his spare time in the castle.

In the non-magical world, he took the time to go shopping for some more new clothes, especially outfits for cold weather, knowing that the winter in Scotland was going to be much colder than he was used to. He picked up several warm hats and scarves, a few coats and sweaters, and shoes that would be good for the snow he was sure to encounter as the season really kicked into gear.

Eventually, September 1st came around, and Harry was finding it hard to contain his excitement. Rather than bother his relatives with getting him to his destination, he simply asked Asa to transport him and his trunk to a secluded location within walking distance of King's Cross station. Asa decided that he would accompany Harry on his train ride, neither wanting to be separated from the other on this special day. As well, Asa needed to establish his identity as Harry's owl, and the best way to do that was to be seen together. The pair made their way into King's Cross, Harry carrying his shrunken trunk in his pocket and Asa riding on his shoulder. He got a few funny looks, but not much more. People tended to ignore the strange in favor of getting on with their business, after all.

They walked through the station until they arrived at the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. They began to push their way through the crowd of people when they picked up a rather loud female voice coming from somewhere nearby. This would hardly be worth paying attention to, normally, but what the woman was saying made them both swivel their heads in bewildered astonishment.

"- packed with Muggles, of course -" were the first words that drew their attention to the large family of redheads lingering nearby. "Now, what's the platform number?" asked the rather plump woman, clearly the matriarch of this brood. Harry's eyes narrowed immediately. Clearly these people were magical, the way they were dressed made that clear enough. All of the boys looked to be more than old enough to have attended Hogwarts – though he wasn't quite sure about one of them, it looked like he was about Harry's age. The point remained that this family had obviously done this _many_ times, assuming they came through Platform 9 ¾ each September. How could she forget something so simple as the platform number after so many visits? If they hadn't come through the station before, why change that now?

Harry mulled this over in his head while the group continued talking. He was acutely aware of the fact that his gut feeling was telling him to avoid this woman, and given his connection with Asa, he knew that his instincts were pretty accurate on things like this. Watching carefully, he noticed that the mother appeared to be searching the crowd while she kept loudly mentioning things that Harry was almost certain were on the edge of breaking the Statute of Secrecy. Her eyes rested on him for a moment, obviously noticing his owl, but just as quickly she turned away. He saw her huff slightly as she ushered the rest of her children through the gate. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, an itching feeling that he had been the object of her search in the back of his mind. Luckily for him, he had come prepared with a hat covering his head so as to disguise himself enough to pass under the radar. He certainly had no intention of being swarmed again over his well-known scar, so he figured a hat was the best he could do without actually changing his appearance drastically.

As the last of the redheads disappeared into the gateway to Platform 9 ¾, he started on his way towards the barrier and walked through casually. He had seen the redheaded family all taking runs at the thing and scoffed in his head. Why on earth would you need to run at the bloody thing? Again, he thought that the family seemed to be putting on some sort of show, almost trying to draw attention to themselves in the crowded non-magical area.

Upon entering the platform, he took a moment to gaze at the bright red steam engine sitting on the tracks before him. There were wizards and witches everywhere, hustling and bustling about with children in tow, owls and cats wandering all over the place as the students made their way aboard. Harry walked onto the train and headed towards the back, looking for an empty compartment. Near the end he found one and went inside, resizing his trunk and taking out one of the novels he had purchased in Diagon Alley that summer. He set the trunk up in the luggage rack and settled down on the bench to read for a while with Asa resting above him by his trunk.

A few pages in, the door to the compartment slid open. At the doorway stood the youngest male member of the family of redheads, and Harry's eyes instantly narrowed a degree at the discernible shift in the atmosphere.

"Anyone sitting there? Everywhere else is full." He absently waved his hand at the opposite bench, turning back to his reading. The boy sat down across from him, and at that moment two of his brothers decided to pop in – a pair of twins, who Harry noticed did not give off quite the same atmosphere as their younger sibling – and let their brother know that they would be off visiting some friend of theirs who apparently had a pet tarantula.

As the twins left the compartment, closing the door behind them, the other boy turned to him and tried to strike up a conversation. "Hi, I'm Ron. Ron Weasley." Harry set his book down, earmarking the page he had been reading, and gave a mental sigh at the conversation he was about to have. He knew that the boy would find out who he was eventually, so he figured he should go ahead and get it over with. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter. Pleasure to meet you." he said with his best smile, saying the last with just a little pain. He gave an inward groan as he saw the immediate shift in the boy's demeanor.

"Are you really? Are you really _the_ Harry Potter? Have you- have you really got the, you know…" he tapped on his forehead, and Harry rolled his eyes at the display of tact.

"Yes. Yes, I am, and yes, I do."

"Can I see it then?" Ron asked.

"No, actually. Much as I love showing off my forehead to strangers, I'd rather not have strangers gawking at it all the time, thanks." Harry said, trying his best to stay somewhat cordial as he spoke. Still, he was unapologetic about his refusal; as far as he was concerned, it was his body and his decision what to do with it.

Ron seemed to have a different opinion. "Oh, come on! Don't be such a snob about it! I just want a look, prove you're really him!" The redhead made a grab for Harry's hat, and Harry swatted his hand away sharply.

"Look here you arse! I don't have to prove anything to you! I'm not being a snob, I just don't like being stared at half the time for a bloody mark on my forehead! Why should you care? So I've got a scar, big whoop, lots of people have scars! Doesn't mean you go asking them to lift their shirts or pull down their trousers to look at them!" Harry snapped, his voice elevating with each word. By the end, Ron was sat there rubbing his wrist with a look of shock that was quickly turning into anger. As Ron's mood shifted, Harry saw images of his uncle's purple face flash through his mind.

Ron was just opening his mouth to begin his own tirade when the door slid open. "Excuse me," came a familiar voice, "have either of you seen a… toad?" Harry turned to the door and a smile came to his face. "Hermione! Hi! Sorry, haven't seen a toad, but I'd be glad to help you look. Just give me a second."

He turned away, pulled down his trunk from the overhead, and shrunk it back down with a tap of his wand. Pocketing his things, Asa jumped to his shoulder and he walked out of the door, slamming it shut behind him. He took Hermione's arm in one hand and the arm of the tearful boy who had been standing with her in his other hand, and stalked away with them a ways before stopping and taking a deep breath. With a shuddering sigh, he slumped against the wall of the corridor and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Thanks, Hermione. You just saved me from the most infuriating conversation with perhaps the most tactless boy in our year. Sorry for dragging you along like that…" he sheepishly turned to the boy he had pulled with them, "both of you. Hi, I'm Harry. I take it you're the one who lost this toad?"

"Y-yeah," the boy stammered out, "I'm Neville… Neville Longbottom. You'll really help me look?"

"Sure, I'd be glad to! It's a pleasure, Neville." He offered his hand to the other boy, who hesitantly gave it a shake.

"W-well, thanks Harry. I really appreciate it. We've basically checked the whole train though, and I don't know where else we can look…"

"Well one thing we can do is go to the prefects' compartment. They might know something that would help us out?" Harry suggested, tapping his chin in thought. "I think it's at the front of the train somewhere, what do you think?"

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Yes, I think you're right. Don't know why I didn't think of that sooner… Sorry Neville, we probably could have saved you some time."

"Oh it's fine! I appreciate your help Hermione, it's the thought that counts, right?" said Neville, a smile coming to his face.

"I suppose you're right." replied Hermione, returning his smile. "So, shall we then?"

The three set off down the corridor, working their way towards the front of the train. Along the way, Harry and Hermione caught up on what each other had been up to since their trip to Diagon Alley. Hermione had apparently been even busier than Harry, studying each of her schoolbooks extensively the entire time. She had gotten farther along in her reading, actually finishing all of the assigned texts, but Harry thought that it would have been better for her to get out every once in a while rather than spending all of her time with her nose in a book. He certainly understood the value of reading, but he didn't think he could stand to study nearly as much as she had.

About halfway up the train, they saw a group of three boys step out of one of the compartments ahead. One, a pale-skinned boy with blonde hair, was stood between the other two who were significantly larger. The boys on either side of the blonde were very mean-looking, scowls fixed on their faces. To Harry, they looked a bit like bodyguards the way they were stationed around the other boy.

"Oy! I've heard Harry Potter is on this train. Have any of you lot seen him?" the blonde asked with a sneer, his arms crossed.

The three looked at each other for a moment and back at the trio across from them. Harry heaved a sigh. "Yeah, I have. Every day, in the mirror. And you are…?"

The blonde's eyes narrowed. "You? _You're_ Harry Potter?" He looked Harry up and down, clearly displeased with what he was finding. "As if. Don't waste my time you stupid Mudbloods, now get out of my way."

Neville gasped softly at Draco's words. Harry knew instantly that Malfoy had said something terribly insulting, and felt heat rise to his face as his anger flared. "What is it with all of you?! Won't believe who I am unless you get to see my bloody forehead! Ugh, fine, here, look all you want!" He tore the hat from his head, clenching it in his fist as he glared at the other boy. "Happy? Now what on earth do you want?"

The blonde looked at Harry's forehead and saw the faint scar that rested there. His eyes widened in momentary surprise, but he quickly regained composure. "Right. Well. I've been looking for you, Potter. My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." He gestured to the boys to his sides, "This is Crabbe, and this is Goyle. Came to warn you, Potter, you're new to our world; some wizarding families are much better than others, wouldn't want to go making friends with the wrong sort." Here, he looked in the direction of Neville with all the subtlety of a gunshot. "I could help you with that."

He offered his hand for Harry to shake, obviously feeling assured that he wouldn't be refused. Harry simply stared at it for a moment before responding. "One, I think I can tell for myself who's the wrong sort, thank you very much. Two, I believe you owe my friends and me an apology. I don't know what that word you used means, but somehow I get the feeling it wasn't exactly pleasant."

Draco sneered once more, gritting his teeth at the slight. A pink tinge rose to his cheeks as he grit out, "Careful, Potter. May want to be more polite, before you make more enemies than you've already got…" With that, he and his goons roughly pushed past and walked back down the train, obviously returning to their own compartment. Harry pondered the last words Malfoy had said as they stood there in the aftermath of that unexpected confrontation. He decided that he would have to talk to someone – someone from the wizarding world – in order to find out just what Malfoy might have meant by that statement. He looked to his left and decided that Neville would be his first source, when he had the spare time.

Hermione placed her hand on his shoulder and he turned to face her. "I'm sorry Harry. I don't know what his problem was, but… Well, I'm sorry anyways. And thank you for sticking up for us, and well… for calling me your friend…" she trailed off, almost whispering the last bit. Harry smiled at her softly and took her hand. "Don't thank me, Hermione. It's what friends do. And, well, you are my first friend after all…" Mentally, he gave a small apology to Asa. He knew that it wasn't quite true she was his first friend, but in a way, she still was. She was his first friend his age, and his species for that matter, and while Asa would always be the first friend he had ever made, their relationship was of a different nature. Asa simply nuzzled against Harry's head affectionately, sending a signal of understanding through their bond.

Hermione gave Harry an understanding smile and thanked him once more, keeping down her questions about why he had never had a friend before her. Of anyone, she knew that it was probably something he didn't want to talk about. The three continued on their trek up the train, and finally reached the prefects' compartment. They knocked on the door, and it was opened by yet another member of the redheaded Hogwarts contingent.

"Yes? Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. Neville here, he's lost his pet toad, and we were wondering if there was anything you might be able to do to help us find him. We've checked all over the train, but he's nowhere to be found." Hermione replied.

He rolled his eyes, looking for all the world as though he felt this was a waste of his time. Still, he acquiesced. "Alright then. Neville, what's your toad's name?"

"Trevor, sir…" he mumbled, looking embarrassed to be bothering the prefect with his problem.

"Alright then. Accio Trevor!" he incanted with a flick of his wand. They waited for a few moments, while seemingly nothing was happening. Then, they heard a croak coming from down the train, and turned to see a toad heading right towards them through the air. Harry reached out and snatched the toad as it was about to go past them, holding onto it firmly so it wouldn't get away. He handed Trevor over to Neville with a smile, cheekily instructing him to "keep a better hold on him this time."

They turned back to the prefect and thanked him for his help, Neville seeming especially grateful for his pet's return. He simply waved it off, saying "It's nothing, just part of the job." As they left, Harry turned back around. "Sorry, but what was your name sir?"

The redhead looked confused for a moment before replying. "Percy. Percy Weasley. Why?"

"I'd like to let Professor McGonagall know that you helped us out before we even got to school. We really appreciate it! Thanks again!" With that, he turned and led the small group out of the car, leaving Percy with a small smile on his face for the praise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ HoNB ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After getting Trevor back, the three worked their way down the train and found themselves an empty compartment. Harry raised his eyebrow at that; that rude boy, Ron, had said everywhere else was full. And yet here was a compartment that was 100% free, plenty before the end of the train. He set that information aside for the moment, preferring to settle down with Hermione and Neville as they rode out the rest of the trip. They all placed their trunks in the overhead compartments, Harry once more unshrinking his, and got seated.

The rest of the time, Harry and Hermione got to know Neville better. The shy, round-faced boy began to open up more as time went on, and informed them of some facts of the wizarding world. Both Harry and Hermione were outraged when Neville timidly explained what Malfoy had called them, though Harry was somewhat less surprised since he had had a heads up from Asa on the wizarding world's bigotry against all things non-magical. He also made a point of explaining his views on the word "Muggle," and how he felt that it sounded like a derogatory term itself. Hermione agreed with him after some thought, and Neville seemed to be pondering the idea as they continued to chat. Both were using the word "non-magical" in its place by the end of the ride, though of course Neville made a few slip-ups simply because of his upbringing.

Before the train reached its destination, the three changed into their school robes. First, Harry and Neville stepped out of the compartment so that Hermione could have some privacy to change in, and then they swapped places with Hermione to get themselves ready. Harry was a little hesitant to leave Hermione in the aisle alone, worried that Malfoy and his gang might decide to make an appearance, but it turned out that his worries were unfounded. Harry left his hat off for the rest of the ride, deciding that he may as well stop trying to hide now that he was almost at the school. Neville glanced at his scar once or twice, but always quickly looked away as he realized what he was doing. Harry appreciated his tact and told him as much, which made Neville blush a little.

Shortly thereafter, the train pulled to a stop. The three exited their compartment to find a crowd of students making their way towards the exit, and eventually they made their way out onto a small platform. Harry was extremely glad that he had had the clarity of mind to purchase winter clothing, as the night air was bitingly cold already, and he couldn't imagine what it would be like when winter actually hit. Asa winged off into the night, making his way towards the castle.

Looking around, the group saw a lantern bobbing over the heads of the other students approaching the platform. A loud, booming voice called out, "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

They began making their way in the direction of the lantern, and halted in their tracks when they saw the enormous man that was calling for them. It took a moment for them to come to their senses and continue their approach, figuring that he must be from the school or else someone would be saying something. As they came nearer to the giant of a man, his eyes locked on Harry for a moment before he said, "'Arry? That you? Why, I 'aven't seen you since you was only a baby!" Harry's eyes widened slightly as the large man inspected him with a smile. "Yeh look a lot like yer dad, y'know… But yeh've got yer mom's eyes. Good people, them two. Bet yeh'll do 'em proud."

Harry stared up at the man in shock. He had never heard anything like that before. He had only ever met one person who had known his parents, and that was Professor McGonagall, and now here was another person who knew them; it even sounded like they had been friends. He swallowed a lump in his throat and after a moment asked, "Sir? Who are you?"

The man straightened up and told him, "'m Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds 'ere at Hogwarts. Prefer yeh call me Hagrid, if yeh don' mind." He winked at Harry and turned back to the group of first years who had arranged themselves around the area.

"A'right! C'mon then, follow me! Any more firs' years about? Mind yer step 'ere!"

The group of first years cautiously made their way down a steep, slippery path after Hagrid. Everyone walked mostly in silence, though a few nervous whispers were muttered here and there. They made their way along the path until they came around a bend, and suddenly everyone was stopped as they stared in awe at the sight before them.

"There yeh have it. Beautiful, innit? That castle there 'll be yer home fer the rest of yer time 'ere." Hagrid said, standing to the side of the first years and looking up at the castle with a reverent gleam in his eyes. They stood before an enormous black lake, and across the other side stood Hogwarts castle in all its glory. Lights twinkled in the windows of its many, many towers, and the whole place simply felt of – well, _magic_.

"A'right now, no more 'n four to a boat!" Hagrid shouted, drawing their attention back to the lake where a collection of small boats sat near the shore. Harry, Hermione, and Neville made their way to a boat and got themselves settled down. A fourth member joined their boat, and to Harry's chagrin he saw that it was one of his two least favorite people in the wizarding world so far – Ron Weasley.

Luckily, Ron seemed willing to keep his mouth shut for the time being. Everyone seemed to be more interested in watching the castle as they made their way across the lake, approaching a cliff face that held Hogwarts high overhead. "Heads down!" yelled Hagrid, and everyone ducked as they pushed through a curtain of ivy into a dark tunnel that ran through the rock wall. They seemed to go on through the tunnel for a long time, and Harry figured that they had to be somewhere below the castle by the time they reached a rocky shore before another stone passageway.

Everyone stepped out of their boats and made their way up along the path, eventually coming out on a large grassy area right in front of the castle itself. They made their way up a large stone staircase that led up to a set of humongous oaken doors. Hagrid raised his fist and banged on the doors three times; the doors opened immediately and there stood a certain tall, stern-faced witch in a set of emerald-green robes. Harry smiled as he recognized Professor McGonagall, and gave her a small wave from the front of the crowd.

"'Ere's the firs' years, Professor McGonagall." Hagrid said, waving over the sea of eleven-year-olds.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I'll take over from here." She replied, throwing the doors wide open to usher the children into the entrance hall. The hall was enormous; so big that it seemed you could fit an entire house inside of it. The stone walls were lit all over by burning torches, though the ceiling was too high to be lit at all. In front of them was a gigantic marble staircase that led up to the higher floors of the castle.

The group followed Professor McGonagall through the hall. To the right, the sound of excited voices could be heard through another set of enormous wooden doors. Harry assumed that that meant the rest of the school had already gotten settled inside. They were led to a smaller, empty chamber off to the side of the hall, where they were forced to stand somewhat closer together due to the size of the room. Many students were looking about and whispering nervously, obviously unsure of what was going to happen next.

McGonagall cleared her throat, gathering the attention of all of the students. *"Welcome to Hogwarts," she began, looking out over the sea of first years. "The welcoming feast will begin shortly, but before you will be able to take your seats with the rest of the students in the Great Hall, you will first be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is very important here at Hogwarts as, for the rest of your time here, your house will be something like your family. You will share classes with the rest of your housemates, sleep in a house dormitory, and spend your free time in the house common room.

The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each and every house has a noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumph will earn your house points; any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope that each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."*

She gazed out into the crowd, seeming to linger on those students who were a bit disheveled-looking. After a moment she said, "Please wait here until I return, at which time we will being the Sorting Ceremony."

"How exactly does the sorting work?" came a voice from behind him, obviously nervous about what was to come.

*"Some sort of test, I think." said Ron from somewhere in the crowd, "My brother Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."*

Harry looked to his side and saw that Hermione was wringing her hands. He heard her muttering things under her breath that sounded suspiciously like spells from their textbooks. He leaned over and whispered to her, "Don't worry so much. We haven't been given any lessons; they can't expect too much from us."

Hermione gave him a nervous smile and nodded her head before turning back, still anxious but no longer muttering under her breath.

The students were all standing there, most lost in their heads worrying about the event that was soon to begin, when a group in the back of the crowd let out a series of screams. Everyone jumped a little and looked around to find themselves surrounded by nearly twenty ghosts, who had come from the back wall of the room.

The ghosts seemed to be wrapped up in an argument as they floated their way across the floor, apparently about someone named "Peeves." As they argued, one wearing a ruff and tights seemed to suddenly take notice of the group of gawking first years. "I say, what are you all doing here?" he asked, receiving no reply from the students.

*"New students!" said one, a quite pudgy man who looked like he belonged in a monastery. "About to be sorted I suppose?"

A few of the students gave shaky nods, still staying entirely silent in the face of the ghostly apparitions before them.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" he said jovially, "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to start." It seemed Professor McGonagall had returned while the students were distracted. The ghosts turned and, one-by-one, floated through the opposite wall.

"Now," said McGonagall, "form a line and follow me."

All of the students quickly hurried to form something that resembled a line, and were led out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.*

What Harry saw next truly amazed him. Sure, he had discovered a few things about magic before he had arrived at Hogwarts. But to see the enormous room filled with thousands of floating candles all hovering over the heads of the collection of students from the upper years, all crammed around four very long tables covered with golden plates and goblets… He could never have imagined anything like it. He turned his head towards the ceiling, which was a rich, velvety black pinpricked with stars.

From behind him, Hermione whispered, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History." Harry nodded mutely, admiring the magical handiwork. Momentarily, his attention was drawn back to Earth as McGonagall silently set a four-legged stool before them. She proceeded to set down a rather rumpled-looking old wizard's hat. It was patched, and frayed, and looked like it hadn't been washed since the time of the Founders. He fought down a grimace at the grimy-looking thing. Everyone seemed to be staring at the hat on the stool, and the amount of anticipation in the room was palpable.

*Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat began to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffis are true And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"*

The students burst into applause as the song came to its end, and the hat bowed to all four tables. Hermione equal parts relieved over not having a test and grossed out by the hygienic implications of putting that hat on her head. Harry had to agree with her on that one.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward with a long roll of parchment in her hand. "When I call out your name, you will place the hat upon your head and sit on the stool to be sorted." She lifted the parchment to the light and began reading off names. Hannah Abbott, at the front of the list, walked up to sit on the stool, the talking hat covering her face for a few seconds until it suddenly cried "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The hat was removed from her head to much cheering and applause from the table to his right. He saw the Fat Friar waving at her with a jovial smile on his face.

He felt a little uncomfortable about what seemed to have just happened. Did that girl have her mind read? How much would the hat know? Would it be able to keep secrets? He took a deep breath and focused on his Occlumency momentarily to steady himself and cast out thoughts about Asa to the best of his ability, just in case. He watched as the kids before him were sorted, noticing that with some children the reaction was nearly immediate and with others it took a little longer as the hat seemed to be conflicted about where to put them. He heard McGonagall say, "Granger, Hermione!" and gave her a small wave as she passed him. He watched as the hat deliberated over her sorting for a good minute or two, apparently having a conversation with her while they sat there. The hat chuckled as he called out, "RAVENCLAW!" The table to his left clapped and cheered and Hermione nearly skipped off to join them.

Neville's name was called a little further down the list, and he rather timidly made his way up to the stool. The hat took a while weighing its options before it eventually shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" to much applause from the table far to his right. He found that choice interesting, wondering what the hat saw in Neville that made it place him in the house of the brave.

Malfoy was called up only a few minutes after Neville, and his sorting was the shortest of them all. The hat had barely grazed his head when it called out, "SLYTHERIN!" Malfoy went off to sit with his bookends looking highly pleased with himself.

There were much fewer unsorted students left now, and Harry sighed, bracing himself for what he knew was going to happen next. McGonagall made it through the list to the "P"s and eventually called out, "Potter, Harry!" He stepped forward, walking confidently to the stool and taking a seat. As the hat was being placed over his head, he heard the entire hall break out into whispered conversation over whether he was "_The_ Harry Potter?"

The hat fell over his eyes and the world was silenced. Harry sighed softly and waited. _"Hmm… Very difficult. Plenty of courage, yes… Oh, what an interesting mind you have Mr. Potter."_

Harry raised his Occlumency higher, feeling threatened by the subtle intrusion. He had never had his abilities tested before, and barely felt a tickle as the hat breezed into his mind. The hat chuckled in his ear_, "Oh don't worry, boy, I can't tell anyone your secrets. It's part of how Godric Gryffindor made me; no one, not even the headmaster, can get one word out of me about any student's sorting. It's been tried several times, I assure you, and never with success."_

Harry felt that the hat was being truthful, and realized that it was a moot point since the hat had gotten through the defenses he had so quickly. He relaxed slightly and the hat continued speaking to him. _"There we are. Bit of an odd place, you know. Spider webs? Ah, I see. I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, I'll avoid that. Ohhh, what's this? Congratulations Mr. Potter! What an honor."_

Harry sighed, still conflicted over letting the hat into that part of his mind. He had decided to trust the hat was being truthful about its protections, and just hoped he wouldn't regret it later.

_"I think I know where to put you, Mr. Potter. Your wit will lead you to great heights in _**RAVENCLAW**!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ HoNB ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: God that took forever. I'm really sorry guys, between getting sick and moving back into college life is a little hectic. I guess all I can say is shit happens. I should be updating about weekly from now on if nothing unforeseen throws itself in the way.

Also, I'm sorry about the large portions of this chapter that were more or less from the books, it feels unprofessional. But I'm trying to stick with canon unless there's a _reason_ for something to be different. The Sorting Hat wouldn't change its song, for instance. Things will diverge from canon more as time goes on…


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